Sunshine and Airplanes
by ShadowSilverWolves
Summary: One of the fifty states gets the privilege of accompanying America to the World Meeting. Watch as one state, the Hero's little sidekick, turns an entire meeting upside down but still manages to wiggle her way into everyone's heart with a smile. (Summary does NOT suck.)
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Hetalia.**

00000

Saying that the room was full was an understatement. The manor itself was gigantic, and this was the family room, so the room was a significant size to begin with. But with every couch and chair full, every window seat occupied, and every square inch of the floor being sat or stood on, it was quite obvious that the room would burst at the seams any minute.

And the noise, do not get started on the noise. There was chatting, crying, laughing, sneezing, and within the groups of less civilized males, burping and farting everywhere, it was amazing that anyone could hear themselves think, much less hear the person standing closest to them.

But somehow, in the midst of all the noise, a single sound cut through the atmosphere and a room full of fifty children fell silent. All eyes moved to where the noise had come from: the top of the stairs that led into the room, for standing there in all his glory was a blonde-haired man in a bomber jacket, sporting a grin wider than the Mississippi River is long. In one hand, he held a smoking revolver, in the other was a clear glass jar, filled to the brim with slips of paper, all folded several times and pressed down.

The man glanced over the full room and called out into the silence,

"May I have your attention, please?"

Snorts and giggles lamely muffled behind hands emitted from the group and rippled throughout the room.

"Do I have your attention?" The blonde man called again.

"Yes!" came the unanimous reply.

"Are you sure?"

"Jeez, Dad, just get on with it!" a boy in a cowboy hat and leather vest called out.

The man on the stairs smiled at his son. "Patience, Texas, we'll get to it! I know you're all anxious to know whose name I'll pull up! Aren't cha?"

"Yeah!" The cry rose from fifty throats and several children began hooping and hollering after the first round of yeahs had died down.

The man in the bomber jacked waved his hands to signal them to calm down.

"All right, all right, cool it, guys! Cool it! You all have been working hard this year to get a slip of paper with your name on it!"

Throughout the year, whenever any of the children did a good deed, or acted kindly toward a sibling or citizen, they received a slip of paper with their name printed on it. At a random time, their father would announce a special prize and present it to whoever's name he pulled out. The better behaved you were, the higher the chance of you getting picked for the prize was.

"I'll announce the prize now!" their dad said as he jiggled the jar of paper. "The name I pull out will accompany me to..."

The children leaned forward, eager to hear what the prize would be.

"...the official World Meeting hosted in England this month!"

Once again the room erupted in noise as the children cheered the amazing prize. They shouted, stomped, and clapped in reverence to this brilliant opportunity to actually speak with the other countries of the world that they only often saw on the recording system that was set up in each of the World Meeting places. It was a privilege that none of the fifty states had ever experienced.

Their father, America himself, nodded along with the children.

"Good idea, huh?"

"Yeah!"

"Well," he said, holstering his revolver and grabbing the jar around the neck with both hands, "I should find out who's going then, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, here goes nothin'!"

America reached his hand into the jar and shuffled around amongst the papers, a determined look on his face, tongue out and eyes closed.

The children leaned forward again, some crossing their fingers, toes, eyes, and doing anything else they could think of that would bring them luck. With such a large family, the chances of their own name getting pulled were so slim, the suspense and tension was enough to choke them.

At last, America found a slip of paper suitable and he pulled it out, placing the jar down on a table beside him. He held the folded scrap up to his face and grabbed one end, carefully and slowly unrolling it to reveal the name.

"The state to go with me will be..."

The children hopped impatiently in their places, unable to keep still under the suspense.

"N..."

All of the states beginning with that letter took in a breath. That narrowed it down quite a bit and disappointed sighs sounded around the room.

"North..."

That left North Dakota and North Carolina on the edge of their seats. Dakota scratched the back of his head nervously while Carolina bit her nails in anxiousness.

"North Carolina!" the man announced, throwing his hands into the air and sending her name slip flying.

The copper-haired girl erupted into a series of shrieks and hugged her twin. The boy spun her around a few times and congratulated her as the states surrounding the two politely cheered for the girl's good fortune.

"SC, I'm going! I'm going to the World Meeting! Aaaaah!"

South Carolina smiled at his sister's eagerness and excitement. Being the more level-headed of the two, he did not mind at all that he was not going, as long as she was happy.

"I know, Caroline, I heard it too! Congratulations!"

The freckled-girl continued spinning herself in a circle a few more times before she ran across the room and hugged her dad tightly, still laughing and squealing.

Her brother stood back and watched with a smile. The World Meeting had better prepare themselves for a bundle of sunshine and hugs.

And a lot of barbecued chicken.

00000

The room was significantly less crowded as well as a whole lot darker than it had been only a few hours ago. Carolina felt a bit nervous as she stood before her oldest sibling, Virginia. Behind the tall boy stood the rest of the Original Thirteen, each holding a flashlight up to their face for dramatic effect, although Massachusetts seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much.

"North Carolina," Virginia began.

"Y-yes?" the girl replied nervously.

"You will soon be leaving for the World Meeting, and as our sibling, you must uphold American pride and honor."

"Yes, brother. I shall," she responded.

"We have asked each of the states to give us something they would like you to do during the meeting and have chosen the three most important for you to carry out."

The black-haired boy handed his little sister a piece of notebook paper that had three things on it that she was required to do.

1. Punch Japan. -Hawaii

2. Hug Russia. -Alaska

3. Get France's autograph. -Louisiana

Carolina looked up at Virginia.

"Umm, the first one...?"

The boy sighed. He knew of his sister's warm heart and friendliness, as well as her inability to avoid hugging the daylights out of people. The first request would be very hard for her to fulfil because of her overall friendly nature.

But her loyalty to her siblings would win out in the end, and he knew she would find someway to fulfill Hawaii's wish.

"I will do my best, brother," she at last said with a salute.

"I'm glad to hear it. Keep in contact and never lose your American spirit. Do not be swayed by those foreign countries, understand?"

"Yes, Virginia, I understand." Caroline's voice held determination and willingness to do her best.

"Then I announce this meeting adjourned."

00000

The sun was just barely up as NC hugged her brothers and sisters goodbye. She held each one tight, but South Carolina she held the longest.

"Goodbye, Carter," she whispered to her dark-haired twin.

"'Bye, Caroline," he whispered back.

She at last let him go and ran ahead to catch up with her father, dragging her suitcase behind her. The other forty-nine states continued waving and yelling goodbyes as she took America's hand and squeezed it firmly.

"Are you ready, sweetie?" he asked her.

"I'm more than ready, Dad! I'm hero ready!"

America flashed his trademark, Hollywood-worthy grin as pride for his little girl filled him to the brim.

"Then let's go!" he yelled, breaking into a run and pulling her along with him.

00000

North Carolina settled in her airplane seat by the window, the best spot to sit in on a plane. And, boy, did she love planes. As her state was the first in flight, she had a deep love for flying contraptions. The brown goggles that rested on her head, nestled in the strands of copper hair, and the bomber jacket she wore that was almost identical to the one belonging to the man beside her, were both given to her on the same day that her father presented her with her very own airplane. It was a tan, three-passenger bi-plane that she had named Spirit of Freedom.

The small plane was actually in the cargo area of this larger passenger plane, coming with them on their trip to the UK. North Carolina could not hold in her excitement over meeting the countries. Meeting new people was her favorite thing to do after flying.

But better than the World Meeting, was spending time with her dad, the most amazing, obnoxious hero ever.

With a smile, the girl reached across the seats and took her father's hand, smiling up at the blonde man. America looked down at her and returned the smile with one of his own.

She could have never asked for a better dad.

00000

Touch down in London, England was just the beginning of North Carolina's adventure as she stood in the middle of the street, taking in the sights, the sounds, and the smells. She adjusted the goggles on her head before spinning around with her arms in the air. She knew that many of her siblings were hostile towards England himself in an indirect way, since none of them had ever met him personally, and she held a bit of resentment towards the thick-eyebrowed man as well. But the city was so delightful and full of wonderful people, she couldn't help but admire it.

"Dad this place is amazing!" she yelled.

America walked up to his daughter, taking her hand and leading her out of the street and onto the sidewalk.

"Isn't it? Just as I always remember it."

Carolina was silent for a moment as the two walked hand in hand passed the shops and cafes that lined the streets. London really was a beautiful city. With a deep breath, the girl looked up at her father, amber eyes shining and lips turned up in a smile.

"Daddy? If I could smile at you all day long, I'd be happy. Because, no matter what anybody says, you are beautiful, too!" The girl stood on her toes and placed a kiss on the man's cheek.

Caroline always had warm words to give the people around her, but to America, she gave the most special ones. She made him feel like he was doing right as a father. Each of the children did, in their own special way. And her special way was hugs and words of endearment.

Down the street they walked, America continuously reigning in his ball of excitement every time she spotted something new and wonderful. Before, he had worried she would be uncomfortable in the World Meeting with the other countries. Now he knew that she would be just fine. His bundle of sunshine could face anything.

00000

**Author's Note:**

**My first Hetalia story! As a born and raised North Carolinian, I took some of the best traits of my state and blended them up, throwing in a few opinions held by those outside of the state and a random fact here and there, and out came Caroline! A warm and friendly girl with a love of flying and giving people hugs!**

**As the story goes on, I'll throw in some random NC facts that I find out. I hope you'll like them! Oh, who am I kidding? You'll love 'em!**

**Also, I really like the slightly more calm twin brother, South Carolina, aka Carter, who is a level-headed, layed back southern boy with dark brown hair. He kinda keeps her grounded, so when he's not there, she goes wild!**

**It'll be fun, don't worry!**

**There will be barbecued chicken in the next chapter because I'm a true southerner!**

**Read and review and so on and so forth and such like.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Hetalia.**

00000

Sunlight filtered into the room from the open shades of the hotel window and fell onto the body of a girl who looked no older than fourteen. Her reddish-brown hair was sprawled across the bedsheets and her legs were folded. She nuzzled against the chest of a blonde man who had one arm draped over her.

The girl's eyelids fluttered open and she blinked a few times to remember where she was. A smile came to her face as she recalled her and her father spending most of the previous evening jumping on the beds and doing fancy tricks in the air. Hotel beds were always the greatest when it came to springiness.

Carolina sat up straight when she remembered what today was. Her excitement caused her to clap her hands and bounce in place. She turned to America and began shaking his arm.

"Dad! Dad, get up!"

America groaned once, his face in the pillow, but he showed no sign of moving.

"Dad, will you get up?" the girl whined, tugging at his arm again.

"Mmmmph.."

Carolina humphed and crossed her arms. It was always difficult to get America out of bed in the morning.

"We've gotta go!"

"Go where..?" The man finally seemed to be coming around.

"The meeting, remember? You're taking me to the World Meeting for the first time!"

America simply rolled onto his stomach and placed another pillow on top of his head.

"Whatever."

The copper-haired girl climbed out from under the covers and swung her legs around to sit on her father's stomach.

"I wanna go, Dad! And you have to be at the World Meeting, too!"

"World Meeting, schmorld feeting," the country replied, his face still in the pillow.

"Nope. No sleeping. Time to get up." Carolina grabbed his arm and pulled with all her strength until he was in a sitting position. "You need to get dressed."

"Don't wanna get dressed," America complained.

"Fine," the girl said, grabbing his glasses and setting them on his nose. "Go to the meeting in your pajamas."

America smiled at the girl that he could now see clearly through his lenses.

"That would actually be pretty nice," he laughed.

Carolina laughed with him.

"Maybe, but I don't think everyone else will agree! Now, come on, get dressed!"

America pushed Caroline off of his lap.

"No, I don't wanna get dressed."

"Then I'll do it!" Caroline grabbed the hem of her father's shirt, and when he did not protest, she pulled the shirt up and over his head, giggling as she did so.

The giggles died in her throat as her eyes rested upon the scar that ran along America's stomach. Her throat became itchy as memories of the Civil War began to play in the background of her mind. She let the shirt and her hands fall into her lap as she sat there in silence. With a trembling hand, she traced the length of the scar, remembering all too well the rift that had been made between her and her siblings.

America, who had started to doze off again, opened his eyes and looked at his daughter when he felt the gentle fingers on his skin. He saw the pain in her eyes and his own heart ached for her. When her glistening amber eyes lifted to meet his, he wordlessly pulled her to him, holding the girl tight against his chest.

All of his children had difficulties remembering the war, some more than others, but North and South Carolina took it the worst, as it was in the lands of the southernmost state in which the fighting had begun.

His heart had bled as he watched his children argue and fight, and he would never forget the war. As a country, he couldn't forget anything. But he could move on and help his children move on.

The two sat there in silence for a while as they each thought over the horrors of the war, taking comfort in each other's embrace. Caroline wondered if she would ever get over it, but decided that she didn't want to. The Civil War was a part of her and her family, just like the Great Depression. It was those hard times that made them who they were today, a strong, independent nation. The War had happened, and she could never go back and erase it. But she could learn from it. She hoped South Carolina knew that, too. If he didn't, she was going to be the first to tell him as soon as she could.

"I'm sorry," Caroline sniffled into America's shoulder.

"Nothin' to apologize for, baby. We all get teared up every now and again over the past. The important part is to keep going. A hero's gotta keep on keepin' on. You can do that for me, can't ya?" he whispered to her.

The girl nodded, blinking away her unshed tears.

"Then we had better move on, huh? Breakfast is next on our list!"

Carolina pulled away from her father and nodded again, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"You should finish getting dressed, first," she laughed, climbing off of the bed and crawling over to his suitcase that was decorated with American flags and star stickers. Flipping it open, the girl later decided that she should not have been surprised to see that the suitcase was filled with unnecessary items. Mostly video games and movies.

"Dad!" she fussed, holding up three video game boxes.

"What?" he asked with a shrug.

"Never mind." Caroline rolled her eyes a pulled a shirt out of the corner of the suitcase. She climbed back up onto the bed and yanked the shirt over America's head, then helped him get his arms in the sleeves.

"Now, I'm gonna go put my clothes on. Can you finish getting dressed without me while I make breakfast?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever." America waved her off. The girl knew that he would probably end up falling back asleep, but at least she had gotten this far with him so quickly.

Laughing to herself the girl left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

00000

When America stepped into the kitchen, he saw two plates sitting on the table, one with a sausage biscuit and a pile of hash browns, and on the other, three barbecued ribs and scrambled eggs.

Carolina turned around and placed a glass of coke beside the plate with the sausage biscuit and sat down at the other seat with her glass of Koolaid.

"Well, does it look good?" she asked eagerly.

"Sure does!" America said with a grin, sitting down and taking a large bite out of the biscuit. "Taste good, too! Awesome, dude!"

Caroline high-fived her dad before digging in to her ribs.

"There's still some time to kill before the World Meeting. We can check on Spirit at the hangar before we go, if you want to."

"I sure do!" Caroline squealed, hugging her father from her seat. "Thank you!"

America smiled. How he loved his little girl!

00000

Caroline pulled on her soft leather boots over her colorful striped socks. She then stood to her feet and adjusted her yellow short-sleeved dress before grabbing a hairbow and pulling her wavy reddish-brown hair into a messy ponytail. With one last glance in the mirror, the girl rushed out of the room, snatching her bomber jacket and goggles off the bed as she ran.

"Are you ready, pumpkin?" her dad called from the front door.

Caroline pushed her arms into the sleeves of her coat and pushed her goggles over her head.

"Ready!"

"Then here we go!" America flung the door open wider than necessary and raced out into the hallway, Carolina following close behind. As the girl ran she clasped her necklace, a silver chain with a lighthouse pendant hanging from it, around her neck.

With a grin, the girl raced ahead of her father, spreading her arms out to imitate a soaring airplane.

"Whoa, Ms. NASCAR, hold up!" America laughed as he came up behind the girl, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her into the air.

"I'm not a racecar today, Dad! I'm an airplane!"

Carolina and America soon found themselves in the hangar located a few blocks away from the hotel they were staying in. The blonde nation pushed open the large doors to reveal Carolina's pride and joy: Spirit of Freedom.

The girl stood by the plane's wing, running her hand along the polished body. Her eyes filled with admiration at the flying machine, taking in the wonder of such a contraption. America stood beside his daughter as she examined Spirit, glancing over the wonderful invention that had come forth from her state's imagination.

"It's so pretty. I can't wait to get it up in the air!"

"Neither can I," America responded, "but time enough for that later! Back in the truck, little lady, we've got a World Meeting to get to!"

Carolina and her father left the hangar, closing the door behind the Spirit.

"Shotgun!" the girl yelled.

"Well, duh! You ain't drivin'!"

Carolina hopped into the passenger seat of her father's F250 black Ford pickup truck and switched on the CD player. Immediately, an older Carrie Underwood song blasted through the speakers as America tore down the highway. Father and daughter began singing along to Cowboy Casanova.

_A good time cowboy Casanova leaning up against the record machine!_

_He looks like a cool drink of water, but he's candy coated misery!_

Caroline bobbed her head to the rhythm and wiggled in her seat as America tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel.

_He's a devil in disguise, a snake with blue eyes, and he only comes out at night!_

_Gives you feelings that you don't wanna fight, you'd better run for your life!_

America and Caroline leaned their heads together to sing the last line of the chorus before erupting into the repetitive vocalized Ooooohs. Then they burst into laughter as the song came to an end.

"I love that song!" Caroline squealed.

"Yeah," America agreed, " but don't go fallen for some cowboy on me!"

Caroline laughed. "Don't worry, Dad! You're my only cowboy! My cowboy hero!"

00000

America stood in front of the door to the World Meeting with Caroline standing slightly behind him, gripping his hand tightly. On the other side of this door lay an adventure just waiting to be had. Though Caroline couldnt wait to meet the other nations personally, she had to admit that she felt a bit nervous. Then she reminded herself of who she was. She was an American! She was North Carolina, the state of NASCAR and the first in flight! What was she scared of? She had survived the War and lived to tell the tale! This was gonna be easy!

With a deep breath, Caroline stepped up to stand beside America, squaring her shoulders and bringing herself up to her full height.

"Ready?" America asked.

With a confident grim and the trademark thumbs-up, Caroline confirmed that, yes, she was ready.

America, in his usual way, slammed open the doors to the World Meeting room.

_Here we go!_

00000

**Author's Note**

**Dun dun dun duuuuuuuun! Let it begin! She will soon enter! Also, the lighthouse charm around her neck is because North Carolina has a lot of really old lighthouses so I gave her the charm. Cool, huh! And NC is a big part of NASCAR so she likes racing, too.**

**Well, I hoped you liked it! To the three reviews I got: THANK YOU, YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE! To the guest who reviewed, I will definitely fit those four things in! The moonshine will be hilarious! To the other guest: purple potatoes shall be included! They do go great with chicken, don't they?**

**Well, that's all for now! Read, review, blah, blah, blah, you get it.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Hetalia.**

00000

Once again, the room was crowded. The fact that the building was home to fifty children meant that the Washington DC Manor of America rarely ever had a room that was not crowded. Today, it was the tech room, which is where all of the monitors and speakers connected to the recording system located in the World Meeting room in England were hooked up. Several screens were attached to the walls, each showing a different angle of the room. The one seat that was envied out of all the areas to sit was the control chair, which was directly in front of the biggest monitor in the room. It was also where the switches and buttons for controlling most of the cameras were at.

Being such a coveted seat, many rock-paper-scissors games were played to determine who would take that place. Unfortunately, cheating often occurred (cheating in RPS is a skill that is acquired over years of practice) which eventual led to arguments which led to fights.

Virginia usual shut everyone up by banning them all from the privilege of the control chair and taking the seat himself. But today, most of the states agreed to allow South Carolina to take the chair. Most of them. New York was still whining.

Carter adjusted the camera a few times before he found the perfect position that allowed him an excellent view of the entrance way. He wanted to see his twin when she burst into the room along side their father. The meeting was already up and running, so America was fashionably late as usual. All the states took a seat, ready to watch their beloved sister make her mark in the history of the World Meeting.

Carter brushed his bangs out of his face, a gesture he often did when he was nervous, and leaned closer toward the screen as the double doors were flung open with such a tremendous amount of force, it was a wonder the doors didn't fall off the hinges. Then again, everything in the room was probably custom made to withstand all of the nations' crazy shenanigans.

00000

"Hey, dudes! I hope you guys didn't start this meeting up without the hero and his little sidekick!"

America's entering phrase was well-known by everyone. Most of the nations ignored him, but his children naturally found his entrance to be awesome and admirable. So Caroline felt a boost of confidence shoot through her when her father included her as his little sidekick.

The nations gathered in the room started to go back to the meeting and ignore the loudmouthed man, but the phrase 'little sidekick' caught their attention and all eyes fell on the girl who stood beside America.

What was seen had jaws hanging open all around the room. Germany dropped the piece of chalk he had been using to illustrate a point on the board. England stood up in his seat to get a better look at the independent nation's companion. Though her hair and eye color were different, the freckled girl was a spitting image of her father. She even had the same strand of hair the stuck straight up into the air, proudly defying gravity. Her smaller bomber jacket also added to the near exact resemblance. But what really showed that she was related to America was her smile, bright, big, and friendly as if there was not a thing wrong with the world around her.

"Hiya, everyone! I'm North Carolina, the Tar Heel state! But you can call me Carolina, or Caroline, or NC! I look forward to properly meeting all of you and I hope you can make friends with this hero's sidekick!"

The girl spun in a circle, held her arms out above her head, and winked at the people in the room when her introductory speech was completed.

The room fell silent.

France let out a strange noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a groan.

America and Carolina did not seem bothered by the awkward silence that had fallen around them as they marched around the large table to their seats. The girl hopped into the chair beside her dad as he placed his briefcase on the table.

Turning to her left, Carolina came face to face with the object of her siblings' loathing: Mr. United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

England was still on his feet sporting a dumbstruck expression when Carolina looked up at him, her eyes warm and shining and that ridiculous smile still plastered on her face.

"Hi, Mr. England! My siblings kind of hate you, and I do too, a little, but I'll try to be civil around you, okay? You're probably not half as bad as we think, anyway!"

And with that, she wrapped her arms around the man's waist, giving him a big hug. Carolina passed out hugs the way normal people pass out handshakes.

"Uh..." A light blush crept across the Brit's face, much to his annoyance. Also to his irritation, he couldn't think of a single word to say as he was hugged to death by a girl who apparently kind of hated him.

When Carolina let him go, she sat back straight in her chair, gave him one last ear-to-ear smile and then shifted her attention to Germany, who was still staring at her, much like everyone else in the room.

It was very difficult for everyone to believe that the immature, irresponsible, hamburger-loving America, could have a daughter, much less one like Carolina. And that would also mean he had forty-nine other children!

"How?" France wondered aloud. "How could such a beauty as her come from one as un-cute as him? How? Why?" The Frenchman dropped his head onto the table. "The world is so cruel!" he wailed.

England sat back down in his seat, having finally gotten his fierce blush under control. He waved his hand at Germany, trying to signal the man to continue on with the interrupted meeting. Germany shook his head as if to clear it and turned back to the board, picking up where he had left off.

Carolina made herself comfortable in her seat and examined the occupants of the room as she fingered her lighthouse pendant. France was still crying loudly where he sat, for reasons the girl could not understand. She reminded herself to ask him for his autograph later.

That reminded her of the other two things on her to-do list from her siblings, and she scanned the room for any sign of the other two nations she needed to find. Her eyes rested on Japan, who was no longer watching her and had been one of the first to shift his attention back to Germany. Than she saw Russia, who was smiling strangely at her from across the room. She waved nervously in his direction a few times before looking to her left at England again. The man refused to make eye contact with her, but she could hear him mumbling under his breath, something about that idiot not telling him something.

Her attention shifted when America stood in his seat and offered a solution to a problem that Germany had brought to the surface. Carolina had not heard what the problem was, and she had not even heard her dad's solution either. But being the loyal daughter that she was, the girl jumped up from her seat, pumped her fist in the air and shouted,

"Great idea! Let's do it!"

America folded his arms and nodded proudly.

"See? I knew it was a good idea!" he said smugly.

"Yeah!" Carolina continued. "I don't know what it was, but he's the hero so it's probably awesome!"

She folded her arms as well and stood with her back to her father.

England banged his head on the table at the stupidity of the nation beside him, as well as the stupidity that had apparently been passed down to the nation's daughter.

"That's a dumb idea, America, sit down," he hissed.

"Well, I'd like to hear you come up with a better one, Iggy!" America countered.

"I think France could come up with a better one than that, and that's saying a lot!" England fussed back, standing up and placing his forehead against America's.

"I protest!" the Frenchman cried, rising from his chair and forgetting about his reasons for sobbing uncontrollably.

Caroline slipped out from in between the two nations when France came over and decided to throw himself into the mix. England switched his target of attack from America to France as soon as he did so while the youngest nation egged both of them on.

Several other nations in the room had begun to argue over topics that had nothing to do anything at all, which is what Carolina had been waiting for. Having observed the meeting from the Washington DC Manor of America's tech room for many years, she knew that this was the point where no one was paying attention to anything important while Germany tried his best to get everything back under control.

The young state took this opportunity to mingle with the other nations. She glanced back at her dad to make sure he was still occupied with stoking the fire between England and France before she spun back around, only to collide with another person. She shook her head to clear it before gazing up into soft violet eyes.

"Matthew!" she squealed in excitement. The usually ignored nation lit up at the sight of the girl.

"Hi, Caroline," he said in that barely audible voice of his. "Good to see you again!"

"Same here!" Carolina threw her arms around Canada's neck and squeezed him tightly. The boy began making choking sounds after a few seconds.

"NC! I can't... breathe!"

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, releasing her hold on the nation who, though he was older than her, stood at the same height as her. "How have you been? You haven't visited in a while!"

"I'm good! I'll try to stop by more often!" he promised.

Canada was the only nation aside from Russia who knew of America's fifty children. Being that he was so often ignored by everyone in the room, he had no trouble keeping America's secret. Although, it wasn't as if America was trying to keep it a secret, he just didn't tell anyone. Which, technically made it a secret.

"Well, see ya, Matthew! I'm gonna go talk to some of the other nations!" Caroline told him, giving him one last hug before rushing off to the other side of the room.

Before she could make it over to Russia, whom she was trying to reach, she ran into yet another nation. Perhaps her constant problem of colliding with others would be resolved if she didn't spin in circles from point A to point B. She glanced up to see who she had crashed into this time and recognized the closed-eye smile that could only belong to Italy.

"Hello!" she said with a smile.

"Hi!" Italy responded, immediately spreading his arms wide for a hug. North Carolina eagerly complied, giving the brown haired nation one of her big hugs. "Nice to meet you, Carolina!" he told her. "I didn't know America had children! That's so neat! How many of you are there? Which one are you? It's so cool to talk to you! Do you like pasta? I like pasta! You're really pretty!"

Carolina giggled all the way through Italy's rant. "Nice to meet you, too, Italy!" The girl knew that she would like this cheerful man already. "There are fifty of us all together, I am the twelfth, I do like pasta, and," Carolina reached up and poked Italy's cheek. "You're very pretty, too!"

Italy laughed gleefully, took the girl's hands and spun her around in circles. Carolina began giggling and squealing as she was spun around by the pasta-loving nation.

Off to the side, Germany watched the two converse, sweatdropping the whole time. This could not be good.

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**Author's Note**

**The author you are currently trying to reach is unavailable, due to a lack of consciousness caused by an overexposure to extreme cuteness. This is her pet snake- I mean, automated responder typing this. We hope you enjoyed this chapter and will stick around for more. Perhaps next chapter, our author will be awake. Thank you, read and review, and have a nice day.**

**-Vendictus, Silver's automated responder and definitely NOT her pet snake.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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The World Meeting had come to the point where nobody, not even Germany to get anyone's attention back on what was important. Whenever this happened, and it always did, the nation in charge of the meeting would announce the only thing that everyone would be eager to participate in.

"Break for lunch!" Germany yelled above the uproar. The announcement was immediately followed by a cheerful reaction from the nations in the room. As everyone began filing out of the room to retrieve the lunches they brought or step into the streets to get a bite to eat from the many cafés that lined the streets of London, all of them completely ignoring Germany as he attempted to remind everyone of when the meeting would start up again, Carolina took this opportunity to break away from Italy and approach France.

When she reached him, he was still arguing a point with England. Caroline did not like to be rude and interrupt, but a careful study of the two quarreling nations over the years had showed her that their disagreement was most likely pointless. She would probably be doing them a favor to cut it short. With a deep breath, the copper-haired girl tugged on France's shirt.

"Mr. France?" she said.

Immediately, the nation dropped down to one knee so as to be at her eye-level and took one of her hands in his.

"Oui, ma cherè, what can Frère France help you with?" he asked her.

Carolina blushed at his behavior, but smiled brightly. "My sister, Louisiana, wants your autograph, s'il vous plait." She turned her head away slightly as she spoke.

"Ah! So your sister is an admirer, is she? Well, just for that, she can have, not only my autograph, but an autographed picture of me!" France smiled and handed Caroline a photo of himself.

"Merci, France!" the girl squealed, throwing her arms around the man.

"You are most welcome, ma cherè!"

Caroline ran off with the picture, pleased that one of the objects on her to-do list was completed.

France watched her run off, a strange admiring expression on his face.

England stepped up beside the sighing nation.

"You carry around pre-autographed photos of yourself?"

France gave the Brit an incredulous look. "And you don't?"

England facepalmed. "No, I don't, you idiot! That's stupidly vain!"

"You just don't appreciate true beauty!" France said, flipping his hair.

His companion only groaned.

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Caroline skipped happily across the room, dodging people, ducking under and hopping over furniture as she hummed to herself.

"Excuse me, sorry, pardon me," a small voice said.

Carolina looked down to see a small girl holding a large tuna fish trying to walk past her.

"Well, hi there!" Carolina greeted.

The tan-skinned girl gazed up at Caroline and smiled. "Hello!" she responded with just a slight French accent to her voice. "I'm Seychelles!"

"I'm North Carolina!"

Seychelles looked confused. "Are you a new country?"

Carolina laughed. "No, I'm a state! I'm part of the United States of America!"

The pig-tailed girl's eyes lit up. "Oh! Mr. America's daughter!"

Carolina winked and gave the girl a thumbs up. "That's me! The Hero's sidekick!"

"Wow!" Seychelles exclaimed.

"So, what are you doing with that fish?"

"I'm going to have it for lunch! I like tuna! Its my favorite food. I'm not very good at cooking it, but big brother France can cook it really well." the girl told her.

Caroline's eyes widened in surprise. "France is your big brother?"

Seychelles nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! He's amazing and i-!"

She broke off in the middle of her sentence when she caught sight of England fussing at France. Seychelles loved her brother, and she knew that he and England often got into arguments, but that did not mean she could tolerate them. Most of the time, she tried not to let it bother her, since she knew both England and France said things they did not mean. But when the Brit insulted the Frenchman in a particularly harsh way (he insulted his cooking), Seychelles could not stand for that coming out of him, and took off toward the duo. Climbing up onto one of the chairs that were at the rounded table, she lifted her oversized tuna fish and swung it with all of her might.

_Smack!_

England's hands flew to the back of his head and he let out a screech that he would later describe as a manly howl, or something. Turning around to see who had assaulted him, he came face to face with a very angry young girl, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Don't talk to Brother France like that! It's rude!" The girl wiggled her finger in the Brit's face as she spoke, still clutching her precious tuna by the tail in her other hand.

As England stood there in astonishment and France gave the injured nation a smug look, Carolina, who had seen the entire thing, burst into laughter, falling into a vacant chair as giggles emitted from her. She admired this girl's courage to defend her brother, and found England's expression hilarious.

Yes, Seychelles was another friend to add to the list.

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"Carolina!"

The people in the room covered their ears as America bellowed out his daughter's name while strolling down the hall, swinging his briefcase as he went.

"Caroliiiiinaaaaaa!"

It was getting to the point where other people began looking for the state in hopes that her presence would shut the American up. Just when they thought their eardrums would never stop ringing, an answering call sounded from the end of the hall.

"Daaaadyyyy!"

Carolina came racing down the hall, spreading her arms wide to once again imitate an airplane as she zigzagged around the occupants of the long hallway.

"Caroline!" America called, even though he could see his little girl coming towards him.

"Daddy!" she responded, still barreling full-speed in his direction.

"Caroline!"

"Dad!"

_Crash!_

The girl charged headfirst into the man, tackling the country to the ground. America went down laughing, wrapping one arm around the girl.

"Nice tackle!" he congratulated.

"Thanks! But it's time to eat!" she said, snatching the briefcase out of his hand and running off with it.

"Hey!" America yelled from his spot on the ground. "Get back here with that!"

Caroline laughed gleefully as she glanced over her shoulder to see her father getting back onto his feet and charging after her. She squealed and increased her speed, racing toward the exit doors.

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"Ooh! What are you eating, Germany?"

The blonde country sighed to himself as he felt Italy's arms go around his neck. Why did this guy have to be so touchy-feely? He would be a lot more tolerable if he would keep his hands to himself. Then again, Germany thought wryly, he wouldn't be Italy if he did.

The two nations were sitting on the grassy lawn outside the building in a shaded spot. Other countries had also taken their lunches outside, as the weather was lovely.

"Wha? More potatoes? Germany eats too many potatoes!" Italy whined, sliding off of the bigger man and falling to the ground to lay beside him. "Do you want some of my pasta?"

Germany glanced down at his friend, who was giving him a pitiful pleading look. He immediately turned away.

"Ja, I'll take some, you pasta addict," he said, his face turning red.

"Yay!" Italy exclaimed, sliding a good portion of his own food directly on top of Germany's mashed potatoes.

"Ah! You idiot! Not on top of the potatoes!" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"Oh... Sorry, Doitsu!" Italy wailed. "I didn't mean to ruin them!"

Germany looked at the devastated nation and groaned.

"Never mind, Italy. I'm sure it will still taste fine."

Italy stared at Germany as the man took a bite out of the food, a hopeful look on his face the whole time. "How is it?" he asked eagerly.

Before Germany could reply, a shout off to the side caught his attention.

"What was tha- argh!"

The larger nation was slammed to the ground by a small body colliding with his. He shook his head and opened his eyes, ready to fuss at whoever had tackled him, but he met with a pair of amber irises and a wide smile.

"Sorry, Mr. Germany!" Caroline apologized. "I didn't see you until it was too late!"

The girl rolled clear of the shocked man and pointed at America who had come running up behind the girl.

"But it's Daddy's fault!"

"What? It is not!" the accused defended. "You were the one running at full speed and not watching where you were going!"

"Yes, but I was only doing that because you were chasing me."

"Dude, you stole my lunch! What else was I supposed to do?"

Caroline flipped her ponytail. "It's my lunch, too, ya know! Hey, Germany, Italy! Can we eat with you guys?"

Germany, who had sat up and gathered his plate of food, which Italy had saved right before he was tackled, glanced at the girl when she asked.

"Umm... Well, I guess. If you want too, I mean..."

"Yes!" Italy declared. "Eat with us!"

America and Caroline took their seats on the grass and grabbed their respective lunch boxes out of the briefcase. As America bit down into a hamburger, Caroline stabbed a fork into a pile of food that looked like mashed potatoes, but had a slight reddish hue to it.

"What are those?" Italy asked, pointing to her plate.

"Purple potatoes that are grown in the mountains of North Carolina," she answered. Putting a large amount on her fork, she held it in front of Germany's face. "Here ya go, Mr. Germany! Try some!"

"Uuh..." Germany gazed nervously at the potatoes. "That's okay," he said. The so-called potatoes looked a bit suspicious to him.

"Oh, come on!" Caroline said. "They're really good!"

Germany opened his mouth to protest once more, which was a mistake on his part.

"Down that hatch!" Carolina exclaimed, shoving the fork into his mouth. The man nearly choked, but got himself under control after pushing her wrist away to get the fork out of his mouth. He chewed in silence for a bit while the three people around him watched for his reaction intently.

His face was blank for a while. Then his eyes widened and his cheeks turned red.

"This is..."

"Yes?" Carolina said.

"...this..."

"Uh-huh?" America encouraged.

"...amazing," the nation exclaimed in a breathless whisper.

...and promptly passed out in ecstasy.

"Oh..." Italy said in a worried tone. "I wondered if he liked them."

"I think he did," Carolina said smugly. "Now just wait 'till he gets a good leg of barbecued chicken!"

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**Author's Note**

**I'm awake this time, y'all, so its all good. See, anonymous guest, I included purple potatoes! Heavenly! And I used pastaaddict's name in the dialogue if you noticed as a thank you for reviewing! Yay!**

**Anywhoo, if you go back to chapter 3, you'll notice I changed a few things. I accidentally said that Canada's eyes were blue. Would you believe it, I was thinking of America when I was describing him! Sorry, Matthew!**

**Also, fun note, Bad Touch Trio will be in the next chapter, so look forward to some awesomeness!**

**And does anyone else love Seychelles and Big Brother France as much as I do? Because they are ADORABLE! Okay, I'm done.**

**Read, review and all that jazz.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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"What are you doing up there, Carolina! You're going to fall!" Italy called up in a concerned voice to his friend. The girl was scampering skillfully up a tree that she had ecstatically come across only moments ago. Her nimble arms and legs seemed to find places to grab or step or their own, without a second thought from her.

Carolina liked London, but here in the city, a good sturdy climbing tree was a rare find. Much unlike her homeland, where everywhere you turned there was a tree growing, whether it be an oak, a dogwood, but most often, a pine tree.

"I won't fall, Italy!" she reassured the worried nation. "I've done this millions of times! I just wanna see the view!"

She also wanted to be closer to the beautiful blue sky. She wanted to reach out and touch the clouds. She wanted to feel the wind racing through her hair. She wanted to feel free.

"Carolina!" Italy's voice called up to her. "Germany will be looking for us! I forgot when the meeting is supposed to start up again!"

After the blonde nation had woken up from his sudden fainting spell, NC had gladly offered him the rest of her purple potatoes, which he accepted gratefully. She then finished of her chicken and took off to go play with Italy until the meeting resumed.

"Okay! I'm coming down!" she yelled down, lowering herself from the branch she was grasping.

When her feet touched the ground, Italy took her hand and tugged her along.

"Come on! Let's go a little slowly," he requested. Having run the entire way here with her, the pasta-loving nation was exhausted.

"Sure," Carolina agreed, strolling leisurely along side her new friend, enjoying the tranquility of the day.

Which, of course, did not last long as Italy caught sight of his brother.

"Romano!" he squealed, rushing over to the darker-haired country, still pulling Carolina by the hand.

"Oh, hi, Italy." The man looked at Carolina, who was still admiring the sky, even after being pulled roughly along by Italy. "Who in the world is that?" he asked, pointing to the daydreaming girl.

"This is Carolina! North Carolina!" Italy introduced, pulling her in front of him. "Carolina, this is brother Romano!"

Carolina snapped out of her daze and faced the country before her. "Hiya!" she exclaimed. " I'm Carolina, Tar Heel state and the Hero's little sidekick! Nice to meet cha, Romano!" As per her usual greeting, the girl jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

"Ack! W-what is your problem?" the flustered man exclaimed, roughly shoving the girl off of him. Carolina stepped back, her wide grin still on her face, though her closed eyes hid a glaze of hurt. She didn't like people refusing her hugs.

"Sorry!" she apologized immediately, still smiling.

Italy decided that he did not want the situation to get any worse, so he grabbed Carolina's wrist once more and dragged her away from the still a spluttering Romano.

"Bye, brother! I'll see you in the meeting!" Italy called as he ran off.

Romano let out a strange sound, and then shrugged. "That potato bastard had better get the meeting started on time for a chance," he mumbled quietly.

Unfortunately for him, the comment did not escape Caroline's ears. She froze in place for a moment, then yanked her hand out of Italy's grip with such strength, the brown-haired nation let out a startled cry. Carolina ran back to where Romano was standing and jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down far enough for her feet to touch the ground.

"Hey!" In this position, Romano was bent slightly backwards as Carolina gave him a death hug from behind. "Let go of me, you little...!"

"Please," Carolina asked in a quiet, almost saddened tone. She did not like doing this. "Mr. Germany is my friend. Please don't call my friend by that name while I'm standing there, please. I don't like doing this, but I've gotta stand up for my friends because Dad said that's what a hero does. Okay?"

"Let him go, Carolina!" Italy pleaded from behind her. "He won't do it again!"

"Hush up, Italy!" Romano snapped.

Before anything could happen that would cause anymore trouble for either nations or the state, Carolina's name rang out from across the yard.

"Come on, Carrie! Time to go in!" America called.

"Coming!" Carolina let go of Romano, letting him stand up straight again and rub his neck from where she had been hugging him. She gave the nation a saddened look before quickly hugging him properly and them running off to meet up with her dad.

Italy ran up to his brother and grabbed his arm. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

The man gave him an annoyed look. "Did you honestly think I'd be hurt by a hug? Jeez, that potato idiot's stupidity is rubbing off on you. Although, you kind of already had a good portion of it to begin with..."

Instead of noticing the fact that Romano had changed his insulting word from before, Italy thought back to what Carolina had done.

"Hug attack," he whispered to himself. Then his eyes lit up and he ran off. "Why didn't I think of that?" he squealed to no one in particular.

Romano only groaned.

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America took his daughter's hand as she walked up to him.

"Making friends with the Italy brothers, huh?"

Carolina looked back in the direction of the two.

"Maybe," she said uncertainly. "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it hard to be a hero, sometimes?"

America paused in his step to look down a his little girl, surprised by the troubled tone in her voice. When he saw her face, and how worried she appeared to be over the subject she had brought up, he kneeled down in front of her to be at her eye level.

"Being a hero isn't easy, sweetie. If it was, there would be no challenge." America watched her expression to see how she was taking it. When the girl did not respond, he continued. "A hero has to work hard a lot of times, and sometimes he feels like turning in his cape. But a hero isn't someone who always wins."

Carolina looked up in surprise at this. "It's not?" Her eyes widened.

America shook his head. "Nope." He leaned forward and tweaked her nose. "A hero is someone who never gives up."

Carolina's amber eyes lit up like the sun in hope as he told her this. He couldn't help but smile at her eager face.

"Remember, North Carolina: never let the fear of losing keep you out of the fight."

"Yes, sir!" the girl exclaimed, throwing her arms around her father. America hugged her back, a smile full of pride gleaming on his face.

"Now, come on! They can't start that meeting without us, can they?"

Father and daughter took off for the entrance to the building, hands clasped and laughing as they went.

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"In that sense, I think it would be a good idea to do some more decorating around the place."

"We're here to discuss world problems, you idiot, not my decor choices."

"Some choices. An elephant has better taste in fabric than you."

"Shut up!"

"Elephants have a great sense of fashion!"

"Stay out of this, Alfred!"

Carolina was bored. The meeting had been interesting at first when she was talking and meeting with all of the countries. Now, all everybody did was yell and shout at each other. Particularly France and England, with America yelling from the sidelines. And why in the world was Italy drawing a picture of pasta on the tablecloth?

Deciding to do something of interest, like fulfill a request from her siblings, Carolina faked a yawn, stretched her arms up into the air, and slithered out of her seat onto the floor. No one would know she was gone, anyway.

Upon getting down on her hands and knees, Carolina began crawling across the floor under the table. She traveled around feet and legs, counting each chair as she went.

_China. Austria. Hungary. Japan._

"Hi, Caroline!"

Carolina covered her mouth to keep a squeak from emitting from her throat at the sudden voice to her left.

"Matthew! When did you get there?" she asked in a whisper.

Canada looked confused. " I've been right here the whole time. I crawl around down here a lot."

"But won't they miss you up there?"

The boy shook his head. "Nah. And of they do, Kumajiro took my place."

"Oh," was all she said.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to go give Mr. Russia a present."

Canada looked shocked. "M-M-Mr. Russia?"

"Yeah! It's from my little brother!"

"But he's scary! He's always sitting on me!"

Carolona shrugged as she continued crawling. "I don't think he's scary. Maybe a bit lonely, but not scary."

America had instilled in his children to not be scared of Russia at a young age. Some found it easy to not fear the tall, ash blonde man, a few others were not so accepting of him. But to Alaska, he was almost a second father. And if her little brother wanted her to give Russia a hug, scary or no scary, she would do it.

Timing herself carefully, she scuttered across the floor and sat in between Russia and Japan's seat. Then, with a shout of "Surprise hug!" she jumped up and wrapped her arms around the man's neck, scarf and all.

Under the table, Canada covered his face while all of the other nations sat back in shock at the sight before their eyes. They waited in silence, wondering how the dangerous country would react.

And America sat back in his seat, completely relaxed, watching his little girl with a smile.

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**Author's Note**

**So, a few notes. I don't post on Sundays because that is my Relax Day. And this week I'll be working on my other longer fanfiction, so you will have to wait until next week to get another update. Sorry folks, but dats life.**

**To all of my marvelous reviewers, THANK YOU TO ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE! YOU GUYS MAKE MY DAY! SERIOUSLY, YOU DO! I SHOULD STOP WITH THE CAPS LOCK!**

**Okay, we're good.**

**Read, review, etc.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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For once, the room was not noisy. It was dead silent. Forget hearing a pin drop, you could have heard an ant fart in the dead silence that weighed heavily down on the World Meeting room. All eyes were on Russia and his human scarf that held him tightly around the neck as if she would never let go. Japan was silently offering his condolences for the copper-haired girl whom he knew would not last much longer on this earth. Not after committing such a friendly and sudden act toward the unanimously voted scariest nation in the room. France had a hand covering his mouth in complete shock at what the poor young state had done. She obviously had not considered the consequences of her actions, a trait she very obviously inherited from her father.

No one could bring themselves to fathom what on earth Russia would do to the overly affectionate girl, but none could speak out and inform her of her mistake, lest the incur the wrath of the ash blonde nation on themselves. Canada, still crouched under the table, pressed his fists into his eyes, worrying to death for the state. He wished Kumajirou was with him. He needed the bear's comfort.

Only one pair of crystal blue eyes remained free of worry for Carolina. And, wouldn't you know it, these eyes belonged to her very own father, who had his chair tilted back as far as it would go without falling over and his feet propped up on the round table, a fat cheeseburger left over from his lunch clutched in one hand and a large plastic cup of coke in the other. His easy smile, which should not have been so easy while his daughter placed herself in such a dangerous situation, remained plastered on his face, not revealing even a hint of despair over what was going on around him.

As the silence became unbearable, many of the nations began wondering, would Caroline let go? Would Russia get angry? Would he just sit there and smile?

As for North Carolina herself, she was not the least bit bothered by how quiet the room had become. Alaska wanted her to give this nation a hug, so a hug he was going to get.

Finally, after everyone sat in the tense silence for what seemed like forever, the Russian at last appeared to be giving some kind of reaction. Still remaining seated, he turned, ever so slightly so he could cast Carolina a glance over his shoulder. When his eyes met hers, a strange sense of affection tugged at the corners of his mouth, transforming his facial expression in a positive way. Carolina saw that and widened her grin.

"From Alaska, da?" was all he asked in that low tone.

"Yep," she replied, her warm smile seeming to penetrate through his cold exterior.

England's face was a sight to behold as Russia lifted one arm up to rest on the back of the girl's head.

"Give him one back for me, da?"

The freckled girl nodded in agreement and squeezed him one last time before releasing him and twirling herself back to her seat. Sitting down once more in between America and England, she adjusted her aviator goggles and settled comfortably into her chair, looking around at all of the gawking nations.

"What?" she asked of no one in particular.

And no one answered.

The meeting returned back to normal, after a good fifteen minutes of shocked silence, and Carolina found herself bored. Again.

She was more worried about her request from Hawaii than anything else. She did not like the fact that she was required to punch Japan. Perhaps if she tried to place herself in a position where she could be mad enough at Japan to actually hurt him, it would be easier.

Carolina placed her goggles over her face as she always did when she wanted to think hard on a particular subject. Traveling back in her mind to the time of the second World War, she thought of herself in Hawaii's place, trying to remain neutral along with her brothers and sisters. News of what was happening outside of the United States was filtering in from different places. Dad did not want a repeat of the Great War, but he also wanted to fight. So torn was he in his decision, that he had not spoken to any of the states for a while.

There was a restlessness throughout the country as decisions were thrown back and forth and the consequences of bringing themselves into the war were weighed between the leaders. No one saw it coming.

Carolina thought of what it would feel like to suddenly feel as if you were being shot multiple times as bombs were reigned down onto Pearl Harbor that fateful day in December. She had never felt so far away and helpless towards her sister who was so young at the time. Carolina squeezed her eyes shut and blocked out the arguing that had started up around her in the Meeting once more. How did Leila, her sister, feel when Japanese planes came flying over the horizon with the intent to destroy? Was she immediately angry with the country or did she focus solely on her people to try and help them?

Leila had been so devastated over what had happened, but as a true American, no matter how young, she had pulled herself together and stood along side her siblings as they agreed to declare war on Japan. When America had entered the war, people trembled, for they were a force to be reckoned with. But what was Hawaii feeling? Was her anger solely focused toward Japan? It had never seemed to be that way. This punch to the face was almost like an afterthought.

The thoughts of the war were enveloping Carolina as she meditated on Hawaii's state of mind. Everything was suffocating her and she needed to breathe.

Grabbing her goggles, she lifted them up off of her eyes and rested them on top of her head as she tried to slow her heavy breathing. Her state of concentration had taken up a good amount of energy and she needed to get some air.

"Dad?" she whispered, tugging on his arm. "I'm going to the bathroom."

After she saw the man acknowledge her statement, she jumped out of her seat and skipped to the door, leaving the noisy room behind and stepping into the empty hallway.

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After her trip to the bathroom and a quick step outdoors to get a breath of fresh, afternoon air, Carolina felt better and had actually come up with a plan that would satisfy Leila and keep her from making enemies.

As she skipped and twirled per usual down the hall, imitating her beautiful airplane that she could not wait to get up in the clouds, Carolina failed to notice that she was not the only occupant in the corridor until she collided directly with another body.

She took a few stumbling steps backwards as she recovered from her run-in, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. Bit she never got the chance to voice it as a hand grabbed her by the front of the shirt and lifted her up off the ground. She soon found herself only inches away from a very familiar (at least, familiar on her part) and rather annoyed albino.

"What's the idea, running into the awesome me like that?" he asked her in a thick German accent.

Now, Carolina always tried her best to be as friendly as she possibly could to all of those around her. She liked appealing to the wishes of others in how they liked to be treated or called. And if this man wanted to be called awesome, than she was happy to oblige.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Awesome!" she proclaimed.

However, while still considering her friendly nature, it is also important to point out that Carolina did not like being held in such a position as the man was holding her now. So, to directly follow up her greeting, Carolina, wrapped her legs around the man's waist to have some leverage. She then placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed until he had released her shirt. Now that he no longer had a hold of her, Carolina bent her body backwards until her hands were touching the ground. Releasing her legs from around his waist, she flipped them so that she was standing up straight, ending the entire routine with her arms spread wide.

"I'm North Carolina, the Tar Heel state, and the Hero's sidekick!"

Prussia stood still in shock for a moment as he took in what had just happened. A mere slip of a state, and a female one at that, had easily escaped from him, and she did not even seem mad at him for being held against her will. He recovered quickly and crossed his arms.

"Not bad, " he complimented with a smirk. "Didn't expect that from a little thing like you!"

Carolina beamed up at him. "Dad taught me a lot! NC is home to Fort Bragg, one of the larger military bases in America!"

"Well," Prussia said, drawing out the word, " what if I had done this!"

The man grabbed her by the back of her bomber jacket and held the girl at arms length. Because his arms were longer than hers, she could not reach his waist to try the same maneuver as she had before. Biting her tongue in concentration, Carolina considered her situation before a plan suddenly popped into her mind. Reaching up, she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his hand. Immediately, Prussia let out a yelp and dropped her to the ground, nursing his injured hand as he did so.

She gave him her cheekiest grin. He nodded, accepting that defeat.

"Okay, okay, what about this!"

Carolina's wrist were pinned to the wall above her seconds after the exclamation left his mouth. His strength kept her still as he smirked, towering above her, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Now what?"

"Well," she said with a hint of mischievousness to her tone, "if you were female, I'd be in a pickle. But seeing as you are male, this will be easy." She lifted her leg as she spoke.

A panicked look came over Prussia's face as realization set in and he jumped a good six feet away from the grinning girl to avoid any damage or pain to his... vital regions.

"Whoa! Not awesome!" he exclaimed. Carolina giggled at his reaction. "But not bad all together," he admitted. "Your awesomeness is prominent. Not as prominent as my awesomeness, but that's to be expected!"

Carolina nodded her agreement. "If you say so, Mr. Awesome! Goodbye!" she said with a wave, racing back to the Meeting room with her arms spread. She had a punch to deliver.

"See ya, spicey," he called, making the name up for her on the spot. Then he turned to Gilbird who sat on his shoulder. "You can definitely see her resemblance to Alfred, can't you?"

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**Author's Note**

**I love writing Prussia because of his awesomeness! Everything is awesome! Can anyone else hear him singing that song from the Lego Movie?**

**Anywhoo, keep on reading, y'all, because the part you have been waiting for is coming up! The punch! Yes, its will be in this next chapter, promise!**

**Read and review and you can be awesome, too! (maybe)**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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Throwing open the double doors of the Meeting room, Carolina stood in the doorway, arms spread wide and a confident look on her face. Her amber eyes scanned the room of nations, looking for one face in particular. England and France were at each others throats over something that was totally irrelevant, Canada was still sitting under the table, this time playing tic-tac-to on the floor, Italy was drawing another pasta design on the papers in front of him, the papers that were probably important, America was proclaiming himself as the only one with any good ideas, Switzerland was...

Oh, for goodness sake, it was a typical scene in the World Meeting as far as any one of the nations were concerned, which half of them were not concerned about anything in the least bit, aside from what they were doing on their own.

But Carolina needed Japan. Gulping down her last bit of nervousness, the girl walked proudly into the room, swinging her arms wide with each step as she approached the quiet, black-haired nation. Upon reaching him, she stood directly behind his chair, a wide grin on her face and her eyes closed tight. Japan, sensing a body behind him, tensed up at her presence, fearing that she would want to give him a hug. Carolina bent at the waist and tapped the man on the shoulder. Japan jumped as if a bolt of lightning had struck him, instead of a young girl poking him.

When he turned around he came face to face, quite literally; her face was only an inch a way from his, with a smile as bright as the sun itself.

"Ah... can I help you, Carolina-chan?" he asked quietly. To his surprise, the girl shook her head at his question.

"Nope!" she said.

Japan didn't say a word for a few moments, wondering what the cheerful state would want with him as he became more and more nervous by the second.

"I have a present for you from my sister, Leila!"

"W-who?" he asked.

"Leila! Hawaii!"

Japan abruptly stood up when he heard that name and bowed to Carolina. In a rushed and worried tone, he launched into an apology.

"Please! I offer my sincerest apologies for what happened during the War! It was my boss that wished to-"

"Japan, Japan, dude! Chill out!" Carolina cried, waving her hands in front of her to indicate that he could stop his rush of words. "It's not like that!"

Japan looked confused. "It is not?"

Carolina shook her head. "No." Honestly, Carolina had been confused herself. She had automatically assumed that Leila was angry with Japan and wished to get back at him for bombing Pearl Harbor. She had been so focused on trying to justify Hawaii's reasoning for wanted to get revenge on Japan that she had not stopped to think about what it was Leila wanted her to do. If Leila was really looking for revenge, she could do something a lot more damaging than a punch. That got her to thinking, why did Hawaii want to punch Japan?

"Japan, we are Americans. We show our affection in strange ways."

"You've got that right!" England yelled from where America was holding him in a headlock.

"Oh, relax, Iggy, I'm not even squeezing that hard!"

"That's unimportant, you brute! Control your idiot strength!"

Carolina rolled her eyes at the two before looking back at Japan. "I know that you are sorry for what happened at Pearl Harbor. This is just Hawaii's way of saying that she understands as well."

And with that, Carolina took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and swung her fist, connecting it with Japan's jaw.

The force of the blow caused him to fly back and land on the table, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room as the table shook under the impact. They saw Japan knocked backwards and Carolina in a follow through position. Again, Carolina had all jaws dropping at the sight. America looked up from where he had been torturing England, shrugged, and continue wrestling with the Brit. Everyone tried to figure out what Japan had done to deserve such a violent reaction from the sweet girl. But Carolina did not let the silence settle for very long. After she lowered her fist, she grabbed Japan's arms and steady him back on his feet. Then she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

"We all know what it's like to have a boss who tends to be an idiot. Stuff happens and we learn from it." Carolina told him quietly, a slight tremble in her voice.

Japan's head was spinning and his face was throbbing in pain (she certainly knew how to hit) as he was embraced by the same girl who had just punched him. He did not like his personal space being invaded, and it was at this point that he usually pushed the person away, but after looking down at the girl and seeing that she looked dejected after what she had done and hearing the tone of apology in her voice as she spoke, he decided that he would allow it, just this once. After all, he was relieved to find out that Hawaii held no animosity towards him for what had happened. The girl before him knew and understood more about the world than her personality let on. Much like her father.

With a sigh, and a light blush, Japan wrapped his arms around the girl's small frame, comforting her and letting her know through a squeeze that he was okay. Carolina looked up at him and reached up to touch his face where a bruise was already forming. Japan smiled down at her and blushed fiercely when she stood on her toes to lightly kiss the bruise.

France fell over in his seat at the sight while England just shook his head.

"Hey!" America whined, running over to the nation and state, pulling his daughter off of Japan. "I haven't gotten a kiss today, why does he get one first?"

"I did give you one," Carolina insisted, crossing her arms. "This morning, remember?"

"No, I don't!" the man pouted, crossing his arms as well and turning away from the girl. Carolina twisted her mouth to the side and rolled her eyes at her father's childish behavior.

"You're not the only one I give kisses to, you know."

"Yes, I am!" America insisted, stomping his foot. "You're not allowed to kiss anyone else!"

"Oh, really?" the copper-haired girl said with a sly grin. She then spun around and rushed toward the front of the table where Italy sat, drawing tomato sauce on his pasta artwork. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

"Ve~ Grazie!" he giggled.

"Hey!" America raced over to them, but Carolina had run off already. "Get back here!"

Carolina zoomed across the room and stepped up onto a chair, propelling herself into the air and landing beside France, who leaned down eagerly for a kiss.

"Merci, mon ami!" he told her with a wink.

"Carolina, cut that out!"

An evil idea popped into her head and she raced around the room back to her seat, and grabbed England in a headlock, the nation yelling in protest at the sudden position he found himself in. She turned around and held the nation in front of her, facing her father. The man froze in his advance.

"North Carolina, don't you dare!" America threatened.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Carolina, let me go!" England insisted.

"Don't do it!"

Carolina grinned before leaning down and placing a kiss on England's forehead, causing more protests to emit from the Brit and a dark red flush to appear on his cheeks.

"You are in so much trouble, young lady!" America fussed, appalled at the fact that his own daughter had kissed four people before him.

Carolina laughed out loud before dropping her unfortunate victim and racing out of the room before her father could reach her. Half of the nations followed the duo as they rushed down the hall, all of them cheering for Carolina as she avoided her father, who was now mostly pretending to be angry with her now. He knew how much she loved running. But he was still a bit jealous.

"Run, ma cherè! Flee!" France called from the door.

"Go, Carolina! I'll give you pasta when you come back!" Italy encouraged.

"Hurry, Carolina!" Seychelles giggled.

"Come on, spicey! You can outrun that unawesome guy!" Yes, I believe we all know who said that.

"Immature idiots," England mumbled under his breath after picking himself up off of the floor where he had been unceremoniously dropped. "Just like that idiot of a father!"

Canada crawled out from under the table. "Is it over?"

Germany stood at the front of the room and looked at the few remaining countries. With a sigh, he gathered up his papers.

"Meeting over," he announced to the nearly empty room.

00000

Carolina was spinning herself around in the yard while America got a scolding from England on how to properly behave as a father. America was very obviously not listening.

"Carolina, do you want to go fishing with me this evening?" Seychelles asked, tugging on the girl's jacket.

"I'd love to," Carolina said, pausing in her twirling to face the girl, "but Dad and I are gonna take my plane out for a fly! We'll be hanging around here for a few days, so maybe another time!"

"Oh, okay," Seychelles said with a nod.

Italy came running over to Carolina after Seychelles ran off, a bright smile on his face. "Hi, Carolina!"

"Hey, Italy! World Meetings are fun!" she exclaimed.

"Sometimes they get boring, but today was fun because you were there! Will you be there next time, ve~! It was so much fun having you here! We've gotta do something really fun before you go! Something exciting! Really exciting! Almost as exciting as eating pasta! Because pasta is exciting!"

Carolina tapped a finger to her chin in thought while Italy continued on with his pasta rant. Something fun and exciting...

"Italy! That's it!"

Italy jumped at her sudden exclamation. "What's it?"

Carolina grabbed her friend's hands and began hopping up and down. "Come flying with me!"

"Ve~?" Italy tilted his head in confusion.

"I have a plane, let's go fly it! It's so much fun!" Carolina looked to the sky and held out her hands. "You can almost feel the clouds, they are so close! And the wind! You feel the wind rushing past you and its such an exhilarating experience."

Italy's face transformed from confused to intrigued.

"It sounds like fun, Carolina!" he exclaimed.

"Then what are we waiting for?" The girl grabbed her friend's hand and dragged him to America so they could leave for the hangar.

"Sorry, Iggy, bit we need him! Bye!" Carolina dragged her dad away.

"I was not done yet! Get back here!"

But neither America, Carolina, or Italy paid any attention to him.

"Idiot..." he mumbled under his breath. But he could not help smiling slightly as he saw Carolina give her father his much awaited kiss.

00000

**Author's Note**

**There! The punch has been done! I hope you were not disappointed by it. You were all looking forward to it. I hope I didn't dampen your expectations! Don't be upset!**

**But a big thank you to all of you marvelous reviewers! When I open up my account and see all of those reviews I go "TWENTY-EIGHT REVIEWS, MOM! TWENTY-EIGHT! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT THAT'S ALMOST THIRTY! OH MY GOODNESS, THESE PEOPLE ARE AWESOME!" Then mom tells me to shut up and write the next chapter before she goes all Hungary on me with her frying pan. Yes, my mother is a Hetalia fan and she is a big encouragement when it comes to my stories. I'm really glad she told me to continue writing! So thanks mom!**

**Hope y'all liked it, and read and review unless you want my mom to come at you with her frying pan.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own Hetalia.**

00000

The ride from the Meeting place to the hangar was quite enjoyable. Carolina had decided to call home and talk to her siblings on speaker phone. The first person to pick up the phone at the Washington D.C. Manor of America had been South Carolina, who was happy to hear from his sister.

"We saw everything on the recording system, NC, you were fantastic!" her brother told her.

Carolina grinned as she held the phone out in front of her, pleased that her brother thought she had done well. It was not often that she was seas away from her twin and it felt good to talk to him. Especially since he was so proud of her. She was certain that all of her siblings had gotten a good laugh out of everything they had seen in the World Meeting.

"I had fun! If you get to come next time, I'm sure you will, too! They will be a lot less surprised then they were with me! I saw Canada and Russia, those were the only two who knew me, though!"

She could hear Carter laughing over the phone. "Did you keep an eye on Dad?"

"Oh, definitely!" she said, glancing lovely at her father in the driver seat.

"I'll have you know," America proclaimed loudly upon hearing what his son had said, "I do not need to be kept an eye on!"

"That sentence barely makes any sense, Dad! And you do need someone to watch you! You got lost in an amusement park, one time!" Carolina said, poking him in the shoulder.

"Well, Disneyland can get confusing! Their maps are inaccurate!"

"Hey!" A voice over the phone yelled. "I heard that, Dad!" America recognized his daughter, California's voice. "Disneyland maps are not inaccurate, you just couldn't follow a map if your life depended on it!"

"Can too!" America had leaned over in his seat to yell that into the phone, jerking the steering wheel to the right as he did so.

"Whoa!" Carolina exclaimed, steadying the wheel with one hand. "Eyes on the road, dude!"

America reclaimed control of the wheel after fussing into the phone for a bit. A new voice came through the speaker and asked Carolina in an urgent tone,

"Did you get France's autograph? Did ya, did ya, did ya?"

Carolina reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded photograph that France had given her.

"Well, in a way, I did. You'll have to wait until I get back to see it, though," she told Louisiana.

The girl's excited squeals pierced through the phone and caused even Italy, who was sitting in the seat behind Carolina, to cover his ears. When the squealing had ceased, only because the girl had been dragged away from the phone by another sibling, Carter continued speaking.

"How long are y'all planning on staying over there in England?"

Carolina shrugged, then remembered that her twin could not see her doing that and instead answered his question aloud.

"I don't know. A few more days, I suppose. I'm on my way to the hangar to take Spirit of Freedom out for a fly with Italy."

"Italy's with you? Hey, Italy!" South Carolina yelled the last phrase loudly.

"Oh, hello!" Italy greeted, leaning forward towards the phone so he could be heard. "I'm having a lot of fun with your sister! She's really nice and fun and friendly and loves giving hugs like I do! And she loves pasta, too! But she eats these weird potatoes that are a funny purple color that Germany really likes! She has to send some more when she leaves! And we are gonna go fly her plane! It's going to be really fun!"

Not a sound came through the phone at first, then Carter's laughter could be heard. "You said all that in one breath, man?"

"Ve~?"

"Never mind," Carter dismissed. "Anyway, have fun flying Carolina!"

"Oh, you know I will!"

"Yes I do. Oh, and by the way? Virginia said he's proud of you. Bye, Caroline."

"Bye, Carter," Carolina hung up the phone and held it to her chest, wrapping the comfort of knowing that her brother was proud of her around her like a warm blanket. She had done well. She had upheld the pride of an American in her own special way, and Virginia was happy. The girl giggled to herself and wiggled in her seat. Today had been a good day.

"We're here!" America announced, pulling the truck into a parking spot near the hangar. Carolina jumped forward in her seat in excitement.

The day wasn't over. She still had some flying to do. As she and Italy jumped out of the truck, Carolina could not help but dance a little jig when her feet touched the ground. Flying had always been a passion of hers ever since meeting Orville and Wilbur Wright, the brothers who invented the first flying machine. As the trio approached the doors to the hangar, Carolina remembered the first time she had been in a plane. The heights that she was able to reach gave her an exhilarating feeling that surpassed the excitement she got when climbing the Appalachian Mountains. Her feet were off the ground and she felt so free.

That is why she named her very first plane that America gave her personally the Spirit of Freedom. That described how she felt when soaring through and above the clouds. Flight had always represented freedom to her, so the name was all the more appropriate for her biplane.

The hangar doors came unlocked and were pushed open, letting the afternoon sun cast its rays on the gleeming tan body of North Carolina's pride and joy. Her amber eyes filled with admiration as they always did when beholding such a wonderful piece of machinery. The girl stood still between Italy and America, staring at her plane as though nothing in the world could compete with its glory.

Italy shaded his closed eyes as he examined the hunk of metal before him. "It's a pretty color!" he complimented.

"Its more than just a pretty color, Italy. This bird is a beauty in the air, especially right up against the sun!" Carolina told him, her voice soft and filled with awe. No matter how many times she stood before Spirit, she could never hold back her amazement.

"Won't it hurt your eyes to be so close to the sun, ve~?"

Carolina laughed. "We can't get _that_ close to the sun, silly!"

"Oh."

"Well, what are we waiting for, you two?" America exclaimed after a moment of silence. "It's all fueled up and ready to go! Let's get this thing in the air!"

Italy and Carolina cheered their encouragement as the latter began making her before-flight check of the plane, making certain that everything was ready to go. Their cheering was interrupted by someone's ringtone filling the air.

_Everybody was kung-fu fighting! Those cats were fast as lightning!_

"Okay, who was messing with my phone?" America growled, glaring at the two people behind him.

Both of them pointed at each other.

The blonde man rolled his eyes and answered the phone.

"Hello, Hero speaking... Oh, hey, England! ...What? ...No I did not, I grabbed my briefcase! ...I would not get my awesome case mixed up with your boring one! ...They do not look the same! ...Because I'm the hero, that's why!"

Carolina glanced over at Italy. "I'll be right back," she whispered, racing out of the hangar and toward the truck. When she returned, America was still fussing over the phone with England, not about whether or not he had taken his briefcase, but whose briefcase looked cooler.

"Hey, Dad! You did grab England's case!" she called, holding up the case that was covered in Union Jack stickers.

"See! I told you my case looks cooler! What kind of hero would I be if I didn't have an awesome suitcase? ...That does, too make sense! Whatever, dude. Hanging up!" America hung up the phone and snatched the case from his daughter. "Ole Iggy needs his case back, so you guys take to the air without me, all right."

"Okay! Don't worry, Dad! We'll be fine! I'll follow all the rules of the airways!" Carolina promised.

America ruffled her hair. "Okay, see ya later, kiddo. Be careful!" He called as he rushed back to the truck.

Carolina saluted him before turning to Italy. "Let's go, pal!" she cheered.

"Ve~! Let's touch the clouds!" he cried, cheerfully.

Carolina ran to the hangar doors and pushed both of the all the way open to allow room for the plane to get out. Then she helped Italy climb into the second seat, which was rather difficult since he was taller than she was. Once he was seated, she climbed into the pilot seat and checked the radio to make certain it was working. Upon conforming a connection, she switched on all of the necessary controls, her heartbeat rising in excitement as the propeller began spinning.

"I'm so excited!" Italy exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

"This is your captain speaking. Thank you for choosing Freedom Airways, fasten your seat belts and enjoy the flight!" Carolina said. Then she adjusted her goggles and prepared to take off.

"Yay!" the brown-haired country cried when the plane began moving toward the doors.

The plane exited the hangar and Carolina steered it toward the runway with skilled hands. As it picked up speed she pulled back on the controls to tilt the plane's nose upward. Faster and faster they went until at last they caught the wind. The tan and yellow biplane began its ascent, reaching farther into the sky.

Both occupants let out a cheer as they reached the skies, feeling the wind around them.

"This is amazing, Carolina!"

Carolina piloted the plane to even higher altitudes, her smile as bright as the sun. The skies were where she belonged. "This is awesome!" she squealed. Though she had flown so many tomes before, each trip to the skies left her wanting more.

They flew over the city of London, admiring the bird's eye view and pointing out different landmarks, particularly the ones that looked so strange from up above. Carolina even tried her hand at a few tricks. Italy especially loved the barrel roll.

"Figure eight! Figure eight!" he chanted.

"Here we go!" Carolina cried, pulling on the steering stick. The plane swirled in a perfect loop before going back up for the next.

"Whoo!" her passenger squealed. "Again!"

Carolina laughed, but complied to his wishes, directing the plane into another double loop.

Oh, how she loved flying! And when she looked back at Italy, seeing his enlightened expression and his hands up in the air, she knew that he was enjoying himself, as well. It was too bad, America could not be with them, but she decided to take him out flying the next chance she got. Maybe she could even try and get England in a plane.

Carolina laughed at the thought and continued to enjoy her time I'm the air.

00000

**Author's Note**

**Flying is awesome! Just sort of a filler chap, building up to the climax of the story. Yes, it is soon to get really epic! (I hope)**

**YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! AND BY AWESOME, I MEAN PRUSSIA AWESOME, BECAUSE THAT IS THE AWESOMEST AWESOME THAT COULD EVER BE AWESOMED! WHOO!**

**Okay, I'm done. Thanks for reviewing you wonderful people!**

**Read, review, and love Gilbird!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own Hetalia. Seriously, I don't.**

00000

America chewed on the end of a pencil as he sat sideways in a large leather office chair, staring out the window at the dusky sky. He was paying absolutely no attention to what he knew his mind was supposed to be on as he gazed at the clouds that drifted lazily outside of the glass pane that separated him from nature. A smile touched his tanned face as he thought of his daughter, who was for certain soaring through those clouds at this very moment with Italy. He could imagine her now, a bright grin on her face, laughter filling her amber colored eyes behind a pair of goggles, reddish-brown ponytail flying behind her as she enjoyed to the fullest feeling so free.

Carolina's dream of one day touching the skies had become obvious the time she had leaped from the top of his dresser to his bed when she was very young. And she kept doing it, no matter how often she missed the bed. Then she began jumping from anything that was taller than her. Since then, America had fed her desire and watched as her state became well-known for being the first in flight.

Tossing his chewed up pencil across the room, the blonde nation rested his chin in his hands and wondered how Carolina's passenger was getting along. The girl liked to be a real show-off in her beloved plane, what with all of her loops and twirls and dives. Perhaps it wasn't his best trait that he had passed down to all of his children, but America had always encouraged the states to show-off. In his opinion, if you were good at something, the whole world deserved to know it. He wondered if Italy would do okay, but upon considering the fact that the Italian could drive like a maniac and not have a problem, there was very little Carolina could do to scare him.

America laughed out loud as he pictured the two of them in that tan and yellow biplane, doing all but the most impossible of tricks and enjoying every minute of it. He wished he could have gone with them. America sat up straight in his chair. Wait, why couldn't he go with them?

"For crying out loud, America, are you listening?" the voice of a very angry Brit yelled at him.

Oh, yes. That's why he could not go with them. England was forcing him to help reorganize all of the papers that had mysteriously become a pile of indiscernible scrap inside of his briefcase. The man in front of him was still trying to figure out how it happened and America had absolutely no intention of telling him that he had dropped the case at least four times on his way here, and one time it had popped open. There may have been a few papers that he had not been able to grab before they were carried of by the wind, but they were probably not that important.

"I am missing seven of my most important documents, you idiot! Where are they?"

America shrunk down in the chair and shrugged. "No idea."

"Liar!" England hissed.

"No, seriously! I'm not lying! I have no idea where in the world they could be."

England folded his arms and glared down at his ex-little brother. "You know something you're not telling me." he insisted.

"Maybe..." America agreed.

"Where. Are. My. Papers. Alfred." With each word, he took one step closer to the chair.

"Let's just say," America said, holding up his hands in surrender, "they're gone with the wind."

And with that, he took off.

_"Alfred!"_

00000

"This is so much fun, Carolina! We should do this all the time!" Italy called to his pilot.

Carolina laughed. "I _do_ do it all the time! A week hasn't gone by that I don't take this bird out for a fly!"

The two were still soaring above London, waving down at the tiny moving dots they knew to be people. It was a different world up here above the clouds. A world that Carolina belonged to and wished she could stay in forever. Unfortunately, her duty as a state kept her grounded. Evening was setting in and the sky had gone from blue to pink as the sun lowered. Carolina had not even realized how long she had been up here; time seemed to pass so quickly when she was lost in the clouds.

"Hey, Italy! Didn't Seychelles say she was going to fish this evening?"

"Sí, I think so!" Italy confirmed.

"Let's pay her a visit! I love flying over the open ocean!"

"I'm with you, Carolina! Let's go!"

The girl piloted the plane skillfully towards the blue horizon, thrilled with the idea of zooming above the seas. Her heart was filled with joy that she just had to let the world know about. Shouting a 'Hooray' at the top of her lungs as the plane headed toward its destination, Italy soon joined in her cheering, and it was not long before the two had come up with a song to celebrate their excitement.

_I love to see the clouds this close, the sun is at my back!_

_I'll soar through the sky so blue, I'm never turning back!_

_With the wind blowing through my hair, I've never felt so free!_

_I'll stay in the air forevermore, as long as you're with me!_

Carolina dipped the left wing and the plane headed west, coming directly over the blue seas. As the sun continued to lower in the sky, it turned the ocean a orangey-blue and sent a shimmer across the waves.

"Down there, Carolina!" Italy pointed, recognizing Seychelles in her little blue fishing boat.

"Watch this!" Carolina exclaimed. After checking to confirm that there were no other boats in the area that might hinder her next maneuver, the girl pushed on the control stick, lowering the plane's altitude. As Spirit headed down toward the ocean, a good distance away from the fishing boat, Carolina pulled up at the right time so that only the plane's momentum caused a wave to rise and head towards Seychelles. It was perfectly distanced in such a way that the island girl only got a spray of water on her.

Looking up, Seychelles recognized her friends in the plane and waved to them, giggling all the while.

"Hello, Seychelles!" Italy called down as the plane headed up to the skies again.

"Do it again!" Seychelles squealed in excitement. Carolina obliged and sent the plane down towards the ocean again, coated the girl in a fine mist of water once more. Seychelles tilted her wide-brimmed, floppy hat down to guard her face and lifted it up when the plane passed her, laughing as the wind blew her twin ponytails around her face.

All three friends continued messing around for a while, each of them enjoying the moments they could spend together before Carolina had to return home. Italy had now decided that he wanted a plane to fly whenever he wanted, although Carolina tried to discourage the idea, having heard from her father of the happy nation's... skills behind the wheel. She did not want to think about what he would do at the controls of an airplane.

"Well, its time we headed back, Italy," Carolina said as she waved down to Seychelles to indicate that she was leaving. The girl waved a large tuna fish in the air in reply, causing both the pilot and her passenger to laugh at the girl's antics.

With one last chuckle, Carolina pulled back on the controls, tilting the plane's nose upwards to head back up to the sky and eventually back home.

"That was fun, Carolina!" Italy said for the millionth time as they headed away from the ocean and back towards the hangar.

"Sure was!" she agreed.

"We should definitely-oh, look! I wonder if Sey knows those people!" The nation interrupted himself, distracted by some movement near the girl's boat that caught his eye.

"What people?" Carolina asked, glancing back at where they had come from. She saw a boat, twice the size of Seychelles's little fishing vessel, come up along side the girl. From where she was, Carolina could not get a good look at the occupants of the second boat. There were at least ten of them, but that was all she could see.

She turned back around and shrugged with every intent of just letting it be. But something was tugging at her, not letting her ignore it. She didn't know what it was, but something told her to turn around and go back. Call it instincts, or whatever, but the pull was so shockingly strong, she decided to listen to it.

"I don't know who they are, but we are gonna find out," she said, a strange tone in her voice that many would do well to be wary of.

As she turned the plane around she spoke to Italy. "There's a pair of binoculars in front of you. See if you can see anything through them."

"Ve~! Okay!" Italy lifted them to his eyes and looked toward Seychelles's boat. "Everything looks smaller!"

"Turn them around, Italy."

"Oh, that's better! Ve~! Carolina! Those people aren't being very nice to Seychelles! They're dragging her into their boat!"

Sure enough, as they came closer to the two boats, Carolina could see that the second boat, a speed boat, held a handful of boys, all of them laughing, and two of them pulling Seychelles from her boat. Italy squealed at what he was seeing, worried for his friend. One of the boys leaned down over the side of the speed boat to mess with the little fishing vessel. In a few moments, Seychelles's boat began to sink below the waves of the sea, taking her fishing gear and catch of tuna with it. Glancing around, Carolina realized that they were the only two boats in this area at the time.

"I knew it!" she hissed under her breath. "Troublemakers, looking to pick on an innocent looking girl! Well, they don't know that this girl's got friends who are about to help her!"

"Ve~? How are we going to do that?" Italy exclaimed, afraid for Seychelles's wellbeing, but nervous about doing anything to help.

"Don't know yet," Carolina said, twisting the controls and leveling the plane after its turn. "But I'm the hero's sidekick. I can't just sit back and not do anything!"

With a determined grimace, Caroline steered the plane toward the boat of troublemakers.

00000

**Author's Note**

**Ha! Bet y'all wasn't expecting that, were ya! The climax is here! Will Seychelles be okay! Will Carolina get there in time? Will I stop asking questions?**

**Yes, I will. The fishing boat situation is actually a true story that my aunt told me happened to her, except my story is gonna end a bit differently! And I made up that poem on the spot.**

** Anywhoo, read, review, and go eat pasta!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	10. Chapter 10

**I do not own Hetalia! The day I own it will be the same day that I beat my brother in Battleship! (Which will be never.)**

00000

"What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?" Italy panted in the second seat of Carolina's biplane. He was frantically waving his arms about as the two headed back towards the ocean. He did not like seeing Seychelles hurt anymore than Carolina did, but he could not think of anything that they could possibly do from an airplane. There was no way to land close enough to the water and have enough time to get out there and do something. So what was Carolina planning on doing?

As Spirit came closer to the speed boat down below, Carolina began circling above the sea, trying to think of a way to get to the island girl in trouble. She had a feeling that the only thing they could do would be for one of them to parachute out of the plane and help her. Then have whoever was piloting the plane continue circling above them until Seychelles was safe. The rope ladder could be lowered to pull both of them back up.

But even that plan left Carolina with a problem. She couldn't send Italy down there, nor could she let him pilot the plane.

"Arrrrgh!" the frustrating girl hissed, nearly banging her head down on the controls in her irritation. The entire situation was difficult and they had no time to think. "That's it!" she snapped, coming to a conclusion. It was risky, but taking risks was what she was born to do. Turning around in her seat, she snatched the binoculars from her passenger show she could look him in the eye, er... face. "Italy, pilot the plane."

"_Ve~?"_ he exclaimed, horrified at the thought.

"You have to, dude! I'm going down there!"

"But, but, I don't know how!" Italy whined.

"That's okay! All I want you to do is keep the plane going in a circle!" she said.

Italy shook his head so fast, the girl feared it would fall off. He was scared and worried and cracking under the sudden pressure. Carolina knew how he felt, being suddenly thrust into a position where you had little to no choice in the matter. Italy was nervous about doing something he had never done before, but he also did not want Seychelles to get hurt. His mind was fighting against his heart and it was causing him to panic.

"Italy, look at me." Carolina's voice was so stern, Italy actually opened his eyes, wide brown irises full of fear stared straight at her. "You _can _do this, Italy. You have to. I trust that you can handle it. I know it's hard to grasp, but we don't have time. Seychelles needs us!"

Italy didn't say anything in response. He only stared into Carolina's amber eyes, trembling under the tension of the moment. He remembered Germany constantly telling him that he needed to be more useful, to actually do something. He had always wanted to make the man proud of him, and it was always so hard to do that. But time after time, Germany believed in him, no matter how many mistakes he made.

Something inside of Italy suddenly came to life, and a determined look came over his face. With a nod that spoke louder than any other word could have, he silently agreed to what Carolina wanted him to do.

The girl smiled and unfastened her seat belt. She then grabbed the parachute for her seat and slipped it onto her back.

"Climb into my seat and just keep the plane going in circles after I jump out, okay?" she called to him.

Italy nodded again.

"When I give you the signal after I get Seychelles out of there, pull this lever here!" She pointed to a small lever near the side.

Again, she only received a nod.

With a deep breath, Carolina stood in her seat, mentally measured her distance, and jumped clear of the plane.

As soon as she was gone, Italy undid his belt and climbed from his seat to the pilot's seat, gripping the control lever with both hands. His breathing was rapid and he forced himself to calm down and remember how Carolina kept the plane balanced. Like he had been told, he made sure that the airplane flew in a continuous circle above the speed boat. He wanted to look down and see where Carolina was, but he feared taking his eyes off of the gauges. Had he glanced down like he wanted, he would have seen Carolina pull the cord to her parachute and float down directly above the boat. When she believed herself to be close enough to land without hurting herself, she let the chute go. Minus her extra weight, the parachute became lighter and was easily caught by the wind and carried off into the sea, disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, Carolina landed with a _thud _onto the deck of the speed boat, one knee on the planks and the other leg spread out to balance her weight as she dropped. The occupants of the boat, who had not seen her plane circling up in the air, much less the person who had suddenly dropped out of it, jumped in surprise at the girl who suddenly appeared on their boat. As Carolina stood slowly to her feet, her eyes were hidden by her copper bangs that fell in her face, slightly damp from the spray of the ocean waves.

"Carolina!" Seychelles cried from where she was being held in place, overjoyed to see her friend.

"Where did you come from?" one of the boys asked her, taking a step closer to the girl.

Carolina lifted her head and pulled her goggles over he face, revealing the wrath billowing in her eyes. With a death glare that could rival Russia's, she bared her teeth at the people in front of her.

"I won't tell you where I came from," she snarled, "but I can tell you where you're going!"

Glancing to her right, Carolina noticed two fishing poles. With the speed and agility of a wild cat, she rushed towards them, grabbed them both by the handle, and smashed them down on the side of the boat. Her strength caused the thin rods to snap easily, leaving her with two short sticks, about the length of her forearm.

The owners of the speed boat began shouting their protests for the damage of their equipment, but their tune changed when Carolina came charging towards them, eyes blazing and yelling as she attacked, swinging the broken poles around her. The first boy that came at her swung a fist in her direction, but his movements were so slow, Carolina dodged it and brought a pole down on the back of his neck as he fell forward. She brought her left leg up and kicked at one beside her, the force of impact sending him crashing into one of his companions. Swinging a pole to her right left one boy disabled and her foot connected with the gut of a kid who tried to come up behind her.

None of her attacks were fatal, she only left them unconscious or unable to move as she spun and flipped with the grace of a dancer and the power of a warrior. Seychelles had curled herself up in a corner of the boat, scared to death and hoping that it would all be over soon. As much as she was happy that Carolina had come to her aid, she couldn't stand to watch the fight unfold before her. It was too painful. So here she sat, with her arms over her face as the sound of her friend defeating her kidnappers floated around her.

And as quickly as it had started, it was over. Silence met her ears, leaving only the sound of the ocean that gently rocked the boat. Lifting her head, she saw Carolina standing before her, holding out her straw hat that had been knocked off when she was first grabbed. The copper-haired girl was giving her a sympathetic smile as she stood there, waiting for her to stand to her feet. Seychelles, ignoring the hat that was being offered, jumped up and wrapped her arms around Carolina, tears streaming down her face as the horror of everything that had just happened set in. Carolina accepted the hug, offering the girl some comfort after what she had been through.

"It's over," Carolina whispered, squeezing her friend.

"Thank you," Seychelles whispered back.

They stood there in each other's embrace for a moment, until Carolina remembered Italy still flying the plane above them. Stepping away from Seychelles, she stood in the middle of the deck and waved her arms above her head.

Up in the sky, Italy had pretty much been a nervous wreck as he did his best to keep the plane from dropping out of the sky, and though he kept it going in a circle like he was supposed to, he could not keep Spirit flying smooth like Carolina could. Everytime he adjusted the controls, he imagined the entire plane exploding or a wing falling off. So it was with great relief that he pulled the small lever to let the rope ladder down after seeing Carolina's signal.

Carolina grabbed onto Seychelles as the rope ladder lowered.

"Okay, Sey. We've gotta jump for it." she said.

"Jump?" Seychelles squealed.

"Yep, jump." Carolina was watching the ladder as Italy continued circling above them. Looking around the boat, Carolina suddenly left her friend's side and rushed over to two barrels near the back of the boat. With a grunt, she pushed them onto their sides and rolled them to the port side of the boat.

"What are those for?" Seychelles asked, pointing to them.

"To balance our weight when we step onto the sides of the boat. We don't need this whole thing tipping over on us," Carolina explained.

Grabbing Seychelles once more, Carolina timed her jump.

"Ready?"

"No!"

"Then let's go!" With a shout, Carolina and Seychelles ran forward, stepped up onto the railing and jumped, reaching out for the ladder as it passed and hoping with everything inside of them that they would not miss and land in the sea.

But luck was with them and Carolina's hand grasped the rope just in time. Seychelles let out a squeal when she saw that they were hanging above the open water and buried her face in Carolina's shoulder Carolina held onto her panicking friend and began climbing up the ladder with one arm, which was extremely difficult. It took a very long time to reach the top.

"Sey! You need to grab the ladder and climb into the third seat!"

Seychelles lifted her face up and looked at the plane. "O-okay!" she said uncertainly. She began climbing up, stepping on Carolina as she did so. Once she was seated, Carolina called to the temporary pilot.

"Italy! Get back into your seat!"

"Gladly!" came the reply.

It was not long before Carolina had climbed back up into the pilot seat and had gotten the plane under control. There was an understanding silence that fell over the three friends.

Then they erupted into cheering after getting out of such a crazy situation, congratulating each other on their accomplishments. There was a bond that had formed between the three of them in that short amount of time that would last a for a good while. Getting through something like that tended to strengthen a friendship, no matter how short it had been.

"That was some superb flying, Italy! That was brave!"

"Not as brave as Seychelles! You were very calm!"

"Only because, Carolina was taking care of me!"

They all laughed, relieved that it was all over, but a thought still tugged at Seychelles's mind.

"What about those kids?" she asked.

"The Coast Guard will find them, or whatever the equivalent to the Coast Guard is that England has," Carolina assured her.

"Can we go home, now?" Italy asked.

"Best thing I've heard all day!" Carolina said as she piloted the plane away from the ocean.

Then a strange sound caught her attention and her heart dropped as she stared at the gauges.

"Oh, man! I didn't plan to be in the air this long! I didn't take into account Italy flying in circles for a while!" she exclaimed, her worry obvious in her tone.

"What? What's wrong?" her passengers asked, not liking how this was turning out.

Carolina looked at them with a fearful gaze.

"We don't have enough fuel to get home."

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**Author's Note**

***drumroll* Oh, no! What now? What will happen? Will they live?**

**Of course they will! I hope y'all people liked this chapter, and if you did, thank my brother because he helped me write it. I was a little stuck and he helped me out. Say thanks!**

**Like I said, my aunt did nearly get kidnapped in a boat when she was young, but she was not rescued by some people in a plane. The Coast Guard found her before anything happened. I had to change the ending of the story because it was so boring. Well, not really, but I like me some action!**

**A big thank you to all of my reviewers because you people are downright AWESOME!**

**Read and review and sing and dance because its fun!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	11. Chapter 11

**I do not own Hetalia, for crying out loud!**

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Carolina bit her lip as stared at the gauges before, wishing she could force the needles to point at the 'full tank' indicator. The girl mentally berated herself for not thinking things through properly. She may have saved Seychelles, but now all three of them were in danger. What was she supposed to do now? There was absolutely no way that they could make it very far inland on the miniscule amount of fuel that was left.

Closing her eyes tight, Carolina tried to come up with a plan. Her first priority was to get her passengers to safety. She needed to get both Italy and Seychelles to the ground, but how?

The parachutes!

Turning around to face her passengers, she saw the worried looks on their faces, having moved from one danger to the next. But she also saw the confidence that they held in her to get them out of this situation. It caused her to falter a bit as she re-thought her plan. There was no other alternative, so they needed to go through with it.

"Both of you put on your parachutes," she said, turning back around to focus on getting Spirit as far inland as she possibly could before the inevitable crash landing.

Seychelles and Italy complied as they pulled the backpacks on. Italy leaned forward in his seat to speak to the pilot.

"Carolina, what about you? You used your parachute already!"

The girl did not answer immediately as she attempted to keep the aircraft steady. She, of course, knew of this, but had no intention of dwelling on the problem. She was the pilot, and like the captain of a ship, she was going down with this plane, no matter what.

"Carolina!" Italy cried, his voice breaking as he realized through her silence what she intended on doing.

"Unfasten your seatbelts, guys. I'll tell you when you can jump." Her voice was firm and steady, not at all how her body felt at the moment.

"Caroline, no!" Seychelles pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. "You can't!"

"I can and will, Seychelles. There is no way in the world that I am just going to let this plane go. Even if I had a parachute, I wouldn't use it. Someone needs to control the plane as it goes down or else someone below could get hurt."

Whatever either of the two were going to say in response was cut off by the sound of the propeller coming to a sudden stop and the engine ceasing in its usual low roar. All three occupants of the plane felt their heart stop along with the engine as fear settled in.

Italy let out a short squawking sound and covered his mouth, his eyes wide and full of panic. Seychelles whispered a soft cry of disbelief at what was happening, her hands balled into fists and pressed to her chest. The pilot had no time to fret over the loss of power to her plane as she did her best to keep the craft under control. The last thing she needed was for Spirit to drop straight out of the sky and injure or kill an innocent person. She would never be able to live with that.

"Carolina, we can't do it!" Italy wailed.

"You have to, there is no other choice!"

Seychelles shook her head. "But you, Carolina! You! What will you do?"

"I just told you! I've gotta make sure this bird touches down safely!"

"But..!"

_"Enough!"_ Carolina shouted, causing the two countries to jump at the tone of her voice.

Carolina knew that both Italy and Seychelles were too scared and nervous to think straight, and she did not blame them at all. Yelling at them would not really help much, but she was at the end of her rope, as well. Resting her head on the controls in front of her, Carolina took a deep breath before continuing.

"You two will jump from this plane, parachute to the ground and go for help and there will be no more questioning, understand? I've got this under control, so just do what I say, please."

Italy whimpered a bit before opening his mouth to speak. "Carolina, we don't want anything to happen to you anymore than you don't want anything to happen to us!"

"I know," Carolina said, nodding her head, "but there's one difference."

"What's that?" Seychelles asked with a shaking voice.

Carolina looked at her two friends, her nerves suddenly disappearing as a wide smile, full of hope and sunshine, spread out across her face. Her amber eyes were alight with something that neither passenger could quite place, but were certain they had seen before. Lifting one hand to give the two a thumbs up, Carolina winked in their direction.

"I'm the Hero's sidekick," she told them softly.

Later, neither Italy nor Seychelles could explain why that simple, ridiculous phrase calmed them down, but somehow it did. Their nerves seemed to settle and a great deal of panic left them when they saw Carolina's easy smile, so much like her father's. When they remembered who she was, who she belonged to, and where she lived, it gave them a considerable amount of peace, as they recalled a certain blonde nation telling them that Americans have a universe-sized amount of willpower that cannot be challenged without grave injury to the challenger. And if the challenger was death, then by all means, death had better bring it on.

They also knew that a country, or a state, could not die from a simple plane crash, but it worried them all the same. Deciding at the same time to put their trust in their friend, Seychelles and Italy decided to do what they could for now.

"Okay, Carolina. We're ready."

Satisfied by this response, Carolina continued piloting the plane, even as its altitude continued to drop. At last, they came over land, and she studied the landscape carefully. She did not know how she did it, but her eyes suddenly locked on to the perfect place for her two passengers to jump out and land safely.

"_Go! Go, now!"_ she shouted frantically.

True to their word, Italy and Seychelles stood in their seats, gripped each other's hands, and jumped clear of the plane, falling to the land below.

Carolina felt her heart grow heavy at the absence of her friends, but she had made the decision. She had to land the plane away from people. Scanning the horizon, she saw a long, narrow field that could work. She would owe an angry farmer some serious cash later, but that was not important at the moment. Picking up her radio, Carolina tried to reach her father.

"This is Spirit to Hero, Spirit to Hero, come in, please."

She waited in the tenacious moments to the crackling of the mouthpiece in her hand, praying that America to answer. No sound came from the device and she tried again to relay a message as her plane continued dropping and heading toward the ground. _Pick up, Dad, please!_

Carolina felt as if she would simply have a heart attack caused by the suspense of the moment before she was smashed into the ground and buried beneath the wreckage of her beloved machine. This was not the end for her, she knew that much, but losing Spirit of Freedom would be a blow.

Just when she thought that she was going to die (hypothetically speaking) alone, her father's comforting voice came over the speaker.

"Hero to Spirit, I copy, over."

"Houston," she said in a broken voice, "we have a problem."

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A glass of wine was slid in front of a tired looking German, much to his dismay. He did not want wine, he wanted beer. But France never had any around. He, along with Prussia, were relaxing (at least, they were supposed to be) in France's hotel room after the World Meeting was ended by America's brat.

Okay, she wasn't a brat and she had really good potatoes, but he was rather annoyed that it was her fault, in a round-about way, that the meeting ended like it did. Of course, it often ended like that anyway, so he shouldn't be that surprised.

"Well, what's troubling you, Ludwig?" France asked him, leaning against the bar and staring at him intently.

"Nothing," was the dejected reply, his tone of voice directly contrasting his words.

France opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance when Prussia bounded over and draped an arm around Germany's shoulders.

"Come on, man. Lighten up! The night's still young and I have a list of bars I'm planning on crashing! Why don't you come with me? They won't be able to handle my awesomeness and my cute little brother tagging along will make me that much more irresistible! Whaddya say?"

"I say, no," Germany replied, pushing the glass of wine away from him.

"Oh, come on!" Prussia whined, pulling at his arm. "You'll have fun, and you could use some of that!"

Germany thought for a moment that he would be forced to go with his obnoxious brother and be dragged all over the town, but his phone rang, saving him from that humiliation.

"Ja, Ludwig speaking," he said into the phone, trying to push his brother away with one arm. "Italy, I can't understand you, speak slower.

France and Prussia watched the country as he listened, occasionally giving the phone incredulous looks. "Italy, you expect me to believe that you went flying in an airplane with Carolina, had to rescue Seychelles from pirates, ran out of fuel, you and Seychelles had to jump out, and Carolina is flying a plane to her doom."

Prussia and France tried to hold in their laughter as they listened to Germany retell Italy's ridiculous story.

At that moment, America and England burst into the room, panicked looks on their faces.

"Sacre blué, L'Angleterre! Amerique! What is the meaning of this?" France screeched. "Look what you have done to my poor door!"

"Who cares about your bloody door! We have a problem!"

America interrupted England and burst into the explanation. "Italy went flying with Carolina and they had to rescue Seychelles from some pirates, then the plane ran out of fuel and Italy and Seychelles had to jump out, and Carolina is flying an empty plane to her doom!"

This exclamation was met with a shocked silence as America retold exactly what Italy had said to Germany over the phone. The blonde man dropped the device in his lap as the news settled in.

France was the first to react and he stood to his feet. "Seychelles!" he cried, suddenly worried for his little girl.

"Where are they, now?" Prussia asked.

America shook his head. "No idea, dude. I lost contact with Carolina moments ago."

"We must find them!" England announced. "But we need a plan!"

"Covered!" a voice suddenly called out of nowhere. The five countries looked around the room, trying to see where it was coming from. England then rolled his eyes and grabbed America's phone of of his waist. "We have Italy and Seychelles's exact location, as well as the whereabouts of the Spirit of Freedom," the voice in the phone said.

America looked at the device for a moment before shouting, "Carter!"

"Who?" came the unanimous question.

Ignoring everyone in the room, America snatched the phone away from England and held it up to his ear. "Carter! The tracking device on her plane!"

"Yep," the state replied, "as well a the tracking devices on the parachutes and the alert that goes off when the plane runs out of fuel while in the air. We received all of these notifications here in the Manor and we are tracking everyone's positions now."

America let out a sigh of relief and hope lit in his eyes. "Nice job, son!" he praised.

"Don't thank me," South Carolina laughed. "Virginia was the one who was so paranoid as to find it necessary to install those things! Everyone here is at a station, so keep us on the line and up to date."

"Got it," America confirmed. Then he looked up into a room of confused faces. "What?" he asked.

England stood in shock as he stared at the man before him. Never in his life had he heard America sound so mature and... well, he didn't know what. This was a man, different from the little boy he had once raised. The Brit realized that, though he had fussed at him earlier for being a terrible role model for his children, he found out that America was doing a fine job. Maybe even a better job than he had done.

"Come on, y'all! We ain't got time to sit here and gape! We've got some people to save! Let's go!" America raced out the door after he said that, Prussia, France, and Germany not far behind.

England hung back, unsure of whether or not he should go, or if he could be of assistance. He doubted if he could.

"Hey, Brit!" his phone suddenly sprang to life and began yelling at him. Shocked by this fact, he pulled it out and stared at it. How were these people getting through to his phone without him answering?

"Yeah, you. This is your country, so we of the Original Thirteen will be holding you personally responsible if something happens to our sister. Got it?"

England gulped and decided that he had better tag along with the rescue team. If any of the Original Thirteen were as dangerous as North Carolina was excitable, he had every right to be worried.

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**Author's Note**

**Sorry this is a day late, I had a birthday party to plan for this man I know who is basically a second dad to me. He is Germany to my Italy. The good news? I got him watching Hetalia! He is medically discharged from the army, so he doesn't have a lot to do except tell me, my bro, and my cuz awesome stories about his time as a Ranger in the United States Army. He was highly amused by how Hetalia portrayed each country, especially since he has been to several different countries. When he saw Russia jump out of the plane shouting 'Vodkaaaaa!' I thought he was going to die of laughter!**

**Anyway, read, review, and believe in aliens.**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	12. Chapter 12

**I do not own Hetalia. If I did, South Korea would be in it a lot more often.**

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It was with extreme precision that Carolina aimed her plane at the long crop field. She could see a house off to her right and she had no wish to bring another person into her already desperate situation. As Spirit continued its descent, Carolina forced herself to remain calm. Any moment now, her plane would collide with the earth and scrape across this field, hopefully stopping before it reached the wood line. The last thing she needed was to get stuck in a tree.

Adjusting her goggles over her face, the girl stared hard at the incoming makeshift landing strip, praying that there was not a soul nearby. As the sky darkened and the stars began to light up, Carolina let out a breath, letting go all of the pent up tension and worry with it.

_This is it!_

She ducked down in her seat, putting her head between her knees, making one last desperate wish that Seychelles and Italy were all right as the plane's nose at last made contact with the ground.

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"Germany? Germany! Hello?"

Italy was shaking as he held the phone up to his ear, wondering why his friend was no longer on the line. He stood in a phone booth in the twilight of evening, trying to tell Germany what had happened. He knew his story sounded a bit skeptical, since no one knew that Carolina had a plane, nor did they know that Seychelles was with him since everyone had heard that she had gone fishing. And maybe pirates had not been the right word to use to describe who had tried to harass the island girl on the water, even if that was what he thought of them to be.

But as of this moment, something had pulled the German away from his phone and Italy could not finish the rest of the story. With a dejected and worried sigh, he hung the phone up and leaned against the glass of the booth.

"He hung up?" Seychelles asked him. She had been outside the booth, but pulled it open when she saw him hang up. Her eyes were wide with disbelief at there current situation.

After making a very painful landing near a roadside, the two survivors had followed the road until they came to a town, worried sick the whole time for their pilot friend, wondering if the plane had landed yet and whether or not she was all right.

"Italy?" Seychelles had said his name as they travelled side by side down the seemingly endless road. "She'll be okay, won't she?"

Italy had never liked to lie, but he did not want the girl to be anymore afraid for Carolina than she already was. So, with the intent to reassure himself as well as Seychelles, he told her, "Of course she'll be fine! She's North Carolina, America's daughter!"

The enthusiasm portrayed in his declaration, which he certainly did not feel, seemed to do just the trick, for the tan-skinned girl smiled up at him, bringing beauty to her face in spite of her scratches and bruises caused by her rough landing. Both of them looked a little worse for wear as they continued trudging along, hoping to come across a town soon.

When they did, they rejoiced and set off for the first phone booth they could find (Italy had forgotten his cell phone in the meeting room and Seychelles did not have one with her). Upon finally being able to set foot in one after waiting in line, Italy had to rack his brain to remember Germany's number; he usually had the man on speed dial.

And now he sat slumped inside the booth, afraid that help would never come and Carolina would die, having saved her passengers from certain doom. His usual cheer and optimism were buried beneath the hurt of knowing that Carolina had done what she had to to save his and Seychelles's life. He imagined her biplane, just this afternoon gleaming proudly in the sun, now a mass of unrecognizable wreckage, scattered about, and her limp body laying in a pool of...

_No, Italy! Don't think about that!_ he told himself, shaking his head to clear his mind of the grotesque images.

Seychelles stood in front of the frustrated nation, not liking the emotions that were coming from the man before her. It was weird and unsettling to see Italy act so contrary to his normal self.

"Italy," Seychelles said, lowering herself to be at his level. "It will be okay."

Italy looked up at her, seeing the same fears that he felt glistening in her eyes as she tried her best to put on a brave front. But just like everyone else in the world, Italy could see that the girl needed comfort despite how brave she was trying to be. For goodness sake, he could use a hug right now. Deciding that they both needed it, Italy pulled the girl to him, wrapping his arms arround her and offering the only kind of comfort he knew how. Seychelles let herself go and sobbed into Italy's chest for reasons too numerous to count. She cried for Carolina, she cried for America who would be devastated when he found out, she cried for Spirit of Freedom that she knew Carolina loved, she cried for Italy and how hard he was trying, and she cried for herself, wishing it was all over.

Ignoring the strange looks that passers-by were giving them, the two friends sat still, wishing, praying, and hoping that help would come soon. There was only so much that they could take.

"Sey? Let's go find a more comfortable place to sit, ve?" Italy proposed. The girl only nodded and stood to her feet, helping him to do so as well. The two found a bench nearby to wait on, although what they were waiting for, neither of them had any idea. Italy had no more change to use to make a second phone call and they did not know where they were exactly. Both of them were far too tired to even think about taking another step, so here they sat on a park bench somewhere in England while their friend sent a plane into a crash landing.

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France was anxious. No, he was more than anxious. Anxious meant troubled by a disturbing suspense, and he was far more than simply troubled. Not to mention, the suspense was on a level thousands of meters above disturbing. His heart felt like it would pound right out of his chest as his blood seemed to race through his body, causing him to twitch every now and again.

As impossible as it seems, France was freaking out.

He did not like what was happening, mainly because it was all going by way too fast. When he had first heard that his little girl was in trouble, he had immediately set out to find her and Italy, along with America, England, Germany, and Prussia. They had followed the directions that were being given by one of America's children (his mind was not registering things very well, so he could not recall which one of them was talking over the phone) only to find themselves in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road with two lonely parachutes.

Since they still needed to find the crash site, they had split into two teams: England, America, and Prussia, who went on to look for Carolina, and he and Germany, who decided to follow the road to the next town to see if they could find the their missing comrades.

Now he was sitting in the passenger seat of a Land Rover, lended to them by a strangely gracious England, fretting over the situation and how useless he felt. America had determined from the ground surrounding where they had found the parachutes that neither Italy nor Seychelles seemed to have gotten injured in anyway, as all signs pointed to them walking away unscathed from their landing point.

The American's voice had a firmness to it that no one, not even England, had ever heard before. His sky blue eyes, usual wide and cheery, seemed narrowed and hard as he focused all of his energy on searching for his daughter.

France could almost understand how he felt, but for some reason could not feel as confident as America seemed. He was nearly falling apart at the seams with frantic worry while America had a steady view of what needed to be done, immediately taking charge of the situation and only responding to the orders given to him from his own children on which direction to go. France was so at a loss of what to do, he felt if he tried to speak it would come out as a barely audible squeak.

So he pushed everything he wanted to say down and forced himself to remain calm, staring out of the window at the street lamps that were just coming on as they travelled down the street. It was a complete coincidence that his eyes fell on two figures slumped against each other on a park bench, looking exhausted and tired out.

"Germany! Stop! Right there!"

The sudden exclamation from the previously silent Frenchman alarmed the driver and he swerved to the left before getting the car back under control and slamming on the brakes. As France leaped out of the car, seconds before it had even come to a stop, Germany at last caught sight of what had made the man suddenly shout and he, too, exited the vehicle in a hurry.

"Seychelles!"

Hearing her name being called in a familiar voice, the girl sat up, pig tails flying as she tried to pinpoint where the yell had come from. At last she saw him, running towards her as fast as he could and her heart seemed to burst back to life as she made eye contact with the man who had raised her.

Despite the fact that she had told Carolina that France was her brother, Seychelles cried something different as she rushed away from the bench, using the last bit of energy she had left to reach him.

"Papa!" she wailed, tears once more streaming down her face as France caught her, wrapping his arms tightly around his little girl and burying his nose in her hair. She returned the hug just as tightly as it was being given, sobbing uncontrollably into his most likely expensive shirt and not caring in the slightest.

"Thank goodness you are okay," France told her in a breathless whisper.

"I'm okay now, Papa. Carolina and Italy took care of me, and now you're here. I'm okay."

France laughed in relief before kneeling down and holding the girl at arm's length to examine her. He saw the scrapes and bruises from when she had landed, but as America promised, she was not severely injured. He gazed into her eyes to see how she felt and saw worry in her expression.

"What is wrong, mon ami?" he asked, concerned for how she was feeling.

"Carolina," the girl replied. "Have you found her yet?"

France did not answer, but only pulled Seychelles to him once more, holding her tightly.

Germany passed the two and ran up to the bench where Italy still sat slumped over, looking dazed and just a bit overworked. He had not even noticed when Seychelles had run off, nor did he hear Germany approach the bench and stand in front of him.

Germany looked down at the nation who always seemed to be so useless. It was strange to see him tired out like this. Italy's eyes fluttered open and his brown orbs met with Germany's blue ones. Hope lit up in his face and a bright smile beamed up at the taller man. With a gleeful shout, Italy jumped up, wrapping his arms around Germany's neck, and for once, the blonde nation let himself be hugged to death, even going so far as to return the hug while Italy prattled on about everything that had just happened.

Even if it was only for a few seconds, Germany decided that he did not like the energy drained Italy he had just seen sprawled out on the bench. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked the talkative, trouble-making, problem-causing, pasta-loving, idiot he was being now. Really, why was he talking about pasta, now of all times? Did it have anything to do with what was going on?

Germany turned his ears back on just in time to catch the last phrase of Italy's rant.

"Did you find Carolina? Is she okay?"

Putting the Italian back on his feet, Germany regretfully told him that they had yet to find her and her plane. Italy became visibly disappointed at this bit of news, much to Germany's dismay.

"We will find her, Italy," he said.

"Of course we will," was the response, steady and firm, which was a tone of voice Germany did not often hear from the shorter nation.

"Let's go, then," Germany told him, heading back to the Land Rover with Italy following close behind. Glancing up at the night sky, Germany hoped that Italy was right.

And if he was right, that they would find Carolina alive and well.

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**Author's Note**

**Bum, badda dum, da, duuuuuum! There you have it! A chapter dedicated to finding Italy and Seychelles! The next few chapters will have more about Carolina and the crash. Do do do do doooo!**

**I will now give my favorite reviewer a shout out. HELLO, PASTAADDICT! YOU ARE AWESOME AND MY FAVORITE REVIEWER! THANKS FOR REVIEWING AND BEING SO AWESOME!**

**To all of you other guys, y'all are awesome, too! I love you all, so don't feel bad that you are not my favorite! Good grief! My other fanfic is at eleven chapters and only fourteen reviews. This thing is at twelve chapters with over fifty reviews! And its way shorter! You guys are beyond awesome! Seriously, beyond it! THANK YOU!**

**If you noticed my new pen name, its because my brother and I are now sharimg an account: he's Shadow, I'm Silver. Look forward to some of his stories!**

**So keep on reading and reviewing, because we've got several more chapters to go!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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There was a radiant heat burning steadily somewhere nearby; she could feel its warmth on her face. The ground beneath her felt uneven and dry, as though she had fallen asleep on a pile of dead pine needles. Her throat was parched and one leg felt... strange. It was not numb, of that she was certain. There was far too much pain shooting through her veins for that to be the case. She supposed she should be thankful that it had not been separated from her body.

Deciding to do a quick check of all her vital limbs and organs, Carolina slowly tested each of her arms and legs, confirming from her analysis that all was properly attached and in working order, minus her left leg which seemed to have a large gash down the back of her calf. Dirt, debris, and the heat off to the side was causing the skin around the cut to sting as the wound bled freely.

_I need to stop the bleeding,_ she thought to herself, slowly realizing the urgency of her situation. The girl decided that the best plan of action for the time being would be to open her eyes and get a thorough look at her surroundings. Lifting her heavy eyelids let a glow of orange light pierce her weary optics, and she blinked rapidly at the brightness.

When her mind was clear and she could properly evaluate the situation, Carolina sat up partially from where she was lying on the ground, stomach down. It was the dead of night and she was lying a few feet away from where Spirit had landed. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes as she gazed, heart broken, upon the burning wreckage of her beloved plane. The air craft was unrecognizable in the state it was in now, the metal wings bent and broken as they melted in the heat of the fire. The scroll-y black letters of its name painted on the rear end of the tail had been scraped across, leaving only parts of the words visible. The propeller was beyond the state of repair as it lay smashed into the ground, several meters away from where the plane had first touched down.

Tears formed in amber eyes as she beheld what was left of her once-stunning machine. That plane had been her pride and joy, providing her with her own way of experiencing the freedom of her beloved country. Here it was now, a pile of useless, burnt up parts and pieces, only a fraction of its former glory.

Carolina wiped her face with the back of her hand, unaware of the soot streak she had left across her freckled nose. Someone would eventually find her, of course. It was hard to miss a biplane, no matter how small, crash into your crop field. But before she did anything to try and go for help or prepare for help to come find her, the copper haired girl remembered her injured leg and glanced about in search of something with which to use as a temporary bandage.

Seeing nothing that would work for the purpose she intended, Carolina decided to remove her knee-high sock from the healthy leg and transfer it to the rather unhealthy one.

It took a moment for her to do that, since she had to remove her boot without moving her left leg. The left boot had been torn nearly in half by whatever had cut into her skin, leaving the leather footwear utterly useless to her. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out as the open wound scraped against a flattened stalk of wheat that she was sitting on. Upon successfully removing her boot and right sock, Carolina began wrapping the striped bandage around her left leg, wincing at the pain as she did so.

Just as she had pulled the still-intact boot back over her sock-less foot, the sound of voices reached her ears. Her heart soared as she heard people approaching, and she was just about to call out to inform them of her location when something told her to keep quiet.

Similarly to how she had felt before turning the plane around to check on Seychelles, Carolina felt the same instinct telling her to seal her lips. Since this little sixth sense had been correct the time before, she decided that no further harm could come from following it again.

Snapping her mouth shut, Carolina inclined her head in the direction of the voices, trying to make words out of the mumbling she could hear from this distance. As they came closer, not only were their words clearer, but their attitude became obvious to the girl, and she realized why her sixth sense had suddenly jumped in. The voice, belonging most certainly to the owner of the property which she had so generously crash landed onto, did not comfort her nor make her wish for him to come quickly to her aid. His tones of anger were being so clearly broadcasted, that Carolina doubted her 'innocent, helpless little girl' would work on this grouchy farmer.

"When I find out 'oo dropped 'is confounded plane in mah field, I'm a skin 'is hide wif a pitchfork!"

A softer, more gentle voice broke in, attempting to calm the raging man.

"Now, now, wha' if 'e's injured?"

"Makes no difference to me, it doesn't!"

_I don't think I want to come face to face with this man,_ Carolina decided as she stood slowly to her feet. She wobbled a bit as she tried not to place a lot of pressure on the injured leg. Pointing herself in the opposite direction of where the voices were coming from, Carolina limped away from the crash site as fast as she could. As she approached the wall of wheat stalks that had not been flattened by her landing, she glanced once more at her plane, mournfully gazing at its remains. Then, with a firm resolve, she pushed herself forward into the forest of wheat with the intent of putting as much distance between her and Mr. Grumpy Farmer as she possibly could.

The march was difficult on the girl as she trudged through the stalks in the darkness of night, only the stars overhead bringing any kind of comfort to her. But she kept going, fear and determination equally motivating her to take another step. And another. And another.

Despite the coolness of the night, Carolina was sweating beneath her bomber jacket. She did not remove it, though, for fear of losing yet another cherished item in one night.

Hoping with everything that was left in her that this field would end soon, since her leg was killing her and her fever, which she was certain she had, was not making her feel any more confident in her abilities to get out of this alive, Carolina almost shouted with joy when the wheat stalks parted to reveal an open field, and across that field, a house with welcoming lights in the windows.

She kept her peace though, not wanting to alert the man who was trying to chase her and tan her hide with a pitchfork. Pushing her body to go farther then she thought she could, Carolina walked sluggishly through the grassy field, her leg throbbing but her heart full as she kept her eyes on the house up ahead.

_I can't make it, _she whispered in her head as it became harder and harder to put one foot in front of another. Her body temperature had risen and her breathing was heavy.

_Just need... to rest... for a moment..._

Carolina saw the ground coming up towards her as she collapsed, a small cry escaping from her lips as pressure was applied to her wound. She tried to keep her eyes open, she really did. But sleep began to look more and more tempting until she finally gave in and let her body dive into the abyss of unconsciousness.

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_Bark!_

"All right, already! So you found something, we're coming!"

A golden dog stood on the crest of a hill, trying to lead its masters to what he had located. His tail was wagging back and forth in excitement as the brother and sister pair neared him. The girl, a few years older than the boy beside her, clutched a shotgun in her hands, as she had been hoping for the dog to chase out a vermin that she could take aim at, preferably the fox that she knew had been getting into her mum's chicken coop.

"That dumb dog probably hasn't found anything but a dead racoon, is all," she complained. "Dragging us out in the dead of the night for nothing."

"He is not dumb. He knows what he's doing." The older boy defended his loyal companion as they climbed up the hill. He clutched a pistol in one hand, harboring the same wish his sister did for a chance to rid their farm of its constant pests.

"If he knows what he is doing, as you so claim, what about that time we were convinced he had found a den of fox kits and ended up finding nothing but a dying bird. I suppose he knew what he was doing then," the girl accused, put off by the fact that her mother had told her to accompany her little brother to find out what the dog was barking his head off at.

"Give him a break, Belle, he was tired that day!"

"Fine, if you say so," she told him, waving a hand in his direction. "But if this turns out to be another dead animal, you are cleaning out the chicken coop tomorrow."

"Deal!"

_Bark! Bark!_

"Nearly there!" the boy called to the over-eager dog as they at last topped the hill. The siblings gazed over the field, trying to see what had caught their dogs attention.

"Whoa! Drake, look at that smoke!" the girl exclaimed, pointing to the billowing cloud of black ash that was rising from their neighbor's field.

"I wonder what happened," the younger boy mused, gazing out across the fields to try and see better.

Again, the golden setter tried to get their attention on what he had found at the bottom of the hill.

"Oh, we're coming, Sage!" they yelled as they trudged down the hill, their leather boots sliding easily down the smooth grass.

Upon reaching the bottom, they both saw at the same time the crumpled figure of a girl on the ground. Sage sat beside the girl proudly, his tail wagging as he awaited the praise he was to receive upon finding such a fantastic thing.

"It's a girl!" Drake exclaimed upon closer inspection.

"Good boy, Sage!" Belle ruffled the dog's head before placing her shotgun on the ground and examining the girl's body.

"Oh my goodness, Drake! She looks like she's only fifteen!"

Belle's horror at finding a girl so young in such a state as this spread to her brother as he pointed out her leg wound.

"Seems like she tried to treat it herself," he said, fingering her makeshift bandage.

"She's burning up, Drake. We need to get her back in the house!"

The boy nodded and slipped his hands underneath the girl's body, lifting her easily in his arms, and began making his way back up the hill.

"Heel, Sage!" he called out, and the setter immediately began trotting behind his master.

Belle retrieved her shotgun and her brother's pistol, glancing across the way at the cloud of smoke that rose high into the night sky. She wondered if an accident had happened and if this girl was part of it. But what kind of accident could have happened in the middle of their neighbor's field with a girl she had never seen before? And how did the girl get all the way over here?

Leaving the questions for another time, Belle followed her brother back up the hill and toward the house, hoping that the girl would be okay. They had only found the one injury on her leg, and she hoped they would not find anymore.

As she caught up with Drake, she placed a hand on the girl's forehead, feeling the hot and sweaty skin. Belle pulled the girl's cracked goggles off of her head and shoved them into the pocket of her jacket.

"How does she look?" Drake asked, knowing his older sister was better with caring for other people's health than he was.

"Not too good, we need to get her inside quickly," she urged.

Drake increased his pace only slightly, not wanting to trip in the dark and drop the girl. Sage trotted along at the boy's feet, wondering if he would get to play with the person he had found.

"Daddy..."

Both siblings looked down at the girl in Drake's arms as she mumbled the word, shaking her head from side to side.

"She's talking in her sleep, she's not awake yet," Belle confirmed, trying to keep the girl still by laying a comforting hand on her arm. Even in her delirium, the girl would probably sense the human contact and possibly calm down. Brushing a few reddish-brown strands of hair out of the girl's face, Belle studied the girl with a grim expression, watching for anymore signs of unrest on her part.

When none came and the girl went completely limp again in Drake's arms, Belle let out a sigh of relief. The calmer the girl was, the more effective of a rest she would get. As soon as they got inside, she could begin to take care of her properly, with her mother's help.

This girl was going to make it if she had any say in the matter.

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**Author's Note**

**There you are, you fabulous people! Chapter number the thirteenth! I don't believe in bad luck to such an extent, so for all you people who think thirteen is an unlucky number, I hath proved it to be an outstanding number! So hahahaha! I cannot believe this story has gotten as many reviews as it has! You guys are so beyond amazing I don't know what else to say! Thank you!**

**Read and review like you are already doing so wonderfully!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	14. Chapter 14

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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"Slow down, you bloody idiot!" England yelled as he gripped the door of the vehicle to keep himself upright. The constant and violent shaking caused by a dirt road and a rather determined driver were a very bad combination and it was not helping his mood in the slightest.

The jeep came to a stop beside a wheat field, from which a column of smoke was rising, giving the early morning sky a grey hue. America, who was seated in the behind the wheel, brought his phone up to his ear and spoke to the person on the other end.

"Is this the right place, Carter?" he asked.

"Yep, you should be very close now," the boy confirmed.

Stepping out of the vehicle, America began making his way to the field, a determined grimace on his face. England and Prussia, the only two passengers of the jeep, sent each other worried looks before exiting the jeep themselves. Following America's lead, they trudged into the wheat field, the smell of burning metal stinging their nose the closer they went. From his position directly behind the blonde nation, England could see the way America walked, the way his shoulders were set, and how he darted his head in different directions, hoping for some sign that his little girl was all right.

England wished there was something he could say to him, but nothing came to mind. America was in 'Father Mode' and most certainly not looking for sympathy of any kind, much less from him. Perhaps he could at least reassure him that they would find her, alive an unharmed, no matter how much he did not believe that himself.

"Alfred..."

"Whoa! Look what I found!" A shout from the albino behind him interrupted his attempt at encouraging the nation in front of him.

America turned around and pushed passed the Brit to see what Prussia was holding up. It was a silver chain with a lighthouse pendant hanging from it, smudged with black soot and dirtied from laying on the ground for so long. America took the necklace from the Prussian and held it in his hands, blue eyes staring at it with an emptiness that pierced England's heart. This discarded item that he knew belonged to Carolina was a indication that the girl had been thrown from the plane when it landed.

Which also meant that England's comforting words telling America that they would find her unharmed were completely useless and would provide no comfort for him.

"Come on," America commanded. "Let's go."

The three continued making their way through the wheat field until they came to the ruins of Spirit of Freedom. Even for England and Prussia, who had never seen the plane when it was still in one piece, the wreckage was heart breaking as they thought of little Carolina steering the air craft to her doom. America stood before it, looking over the bits and parts of twisted metal and burning wings, knowing how much his daughter loved and adored this once magnificent machine. It felt as though his heart was burning as what was left of the flames licked at the airplane.

Prussia was walking around the crash site, looking for any signs that the girl had made it out alive while England stood there feeling useless.

"I think she got out of this alive, America," Prussia said from where he stood examining the pilot seat. When the nation did not answer, England looked at the man.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, hoping that the albino had some physical evidence to put before the American.

"I don't know, really. Just a feeling. Spicey wouldn't get hurt by something as unawesome as a plane crash. She's got more awesome in her than that. If she were to ever get really injured by something, it would be by something totally cool and way more awesome than this!"

England shook his head, frustrated with Prussia for trying to give America a false hope. "We are going with facts, and facts only, Prussia. Not feelings, and certainly not yours!"

Prussia looked angrily offended at that, shocked that England was putting him down for trying to make America feel better. "Hey, I sense awesome very well, and there is awesome all over this place, meaning she made it out alive!"

"Of course she's alive, you wanker! She's a state! Awesome has nothing to do with it! Not quit spouting nonsense and let's use our brains!"

"Awesome has everything to do with it! You wouldn't get it, though, because you're not awesome!"

"Quit it!" England shouted, glaring at the Prussian with all the despise he could muster. "Giving America false hope will not help the situation!"

"Well, neither will smashing every hope we have!" Prussia countered the fierce glower with one of his own.

Before either nation could retaliate, an arm went around each of their shoulders and pulled them close. They both let out an involuntary cry as America stood between them both and hugged their necks, a wide grin on his face that had them both staring at him in confusion.

"She's okay!" he suddenly announced.

There was a silence in the area for a good ten seconds before England looked up at his ex-brother and asked,

"H-how? How do you know?"

"I can feel it!" America said with a determined look, smiling slightly lopsided off into the distance. Prussia sent England a smug look as if to say, "Told ya."

"You can feel it?" England repeated, ignoring the white-haired nation making faces at him.

"Yep!" America confirmed. Then he turned around, dragging the two nations with him as he did so. "I also found a set of tracks leading out of the wheat field that we definitely did not make, one of the foot prints matching Carolina's boots, heading in that direction."

England and Prussia stared at the now-quite-obvious trail that had been made going from the plane to the wheat stalks and continuing on through the field. They glanced at each other before looking up into the face of the blissfully smiling American, suddenly flushing at their own idiocy.

"Come on!" America called, dropping the two nations and marching towards the pathway. "Let's go!"

The two let out a grunt as they hit the ground before looking up at America who was now stomping through the wheat field.

"I'd hurry up I were you," he called back. "Grumpy farmer at six 'o clock!"

Sure enough, a pitchfork could be seen above the stalks behind them and a very irritated voice reached their ears. As one, England and Prussia stood to their feet and quickly fell in step behind America, wanting to quickly distance themselves from the farmer.

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Voices. She could hear voices around her. One was high pitched and laughing, while the other was a tone deeper and sounded annoyed. British. The voices were definitely British, which meant she was not in North Carolina. Or maybe she was and she was in the presence of several Brits who had come over seas, but that was unlikely.

So, she was in England. Okay, that was one thing she could confirm. Now, why was she in England? Ah, yes, the World Meeting. Her father had brought her with him to go to the World Meeting. Yes, she was remembering everything.

She would have been happy if the memories had continued coming back at this slow and steady pace, but unfortunately for her, she was suddenly hit with the remembrance of the plane wreck and the destruction of Spirit of Freedom. The pain of losing such a machine mixed with the feeling she got back in her leg, which was also painful, caused her to let out a cry.

The voices around her suddenly ceased and she sensed the presence of someone to her left. A hand enveloped her own and a soft voice whispered into her ear.

"Are you awake, dearie?"

Forcing her heavy eyelids to open, she saw a girl of about eighteen hovering over her. Strands of dark hair framed her rounded face and light brown eyes gazed into hers with concern.

"I... think so," she responded, her voice hoarse and sounding like it had not been used in years.

The girl sitting near her smiled, causing her face to brighten considerably and her eyes to take on an amused twinkle. "Good answer," the girl replied with a laugh.

"Move over, Belle," a voice said as a plump, motherly woman stepped into view, "let me give the poor thing a bit of this. She'll feel much better with something in her system." The woman, who had the same hazel-brown eyes and round features of her daughter, if not a bit more wrinkled, took Belle's place at Carolina's side and held out a spoonful of soup. Carolina let the woman feed her, liking the warm sensation it brought to her body. The spices in the soup sparked her senses to life and she felt her body coming back under her control from its previous slumber.

"I'm Carolina," she said to the girl and her mother. "Carolina A. Jones."

"Well, a pleasure to meet you, Carolina!" the girl said. "I'm Annabelle, but you can call me Belle!"

"And I'm Mrs. Marlington. Do you remember what happened dear?"

Carolina crinkled her eyebrows together. "Unfortunately, yeah."

Belle opened her mouth to ask where she had come from, when the door burst open, the amount of force applied to it almost tearing it off of its hinges. Carolina sat up to see who was coming and saw a boy of sixteen step into the room.

"Is the girl awake yet, Mum?" he asked in a voice much louder than the situation demanded.

"Will you snap up, Drake! Quit being so loud!" Belle fussed, spinning around to face her brother.

The boy shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his sisters words and not seeing any reason to keep quiet. "What?" he asked.

"Yes, she is awake, now make yourself useful and go get some more bandages from the cupboard and a cup of tea," his mother told him from where she sat.

Drake looked from his older sister to his mother, but did not move unto Belle took a threatening step towards him. He jumped and took off out of the room, not looking back to see that she had not bothered to actually follow him.

"And that," Belle said with a roll of her eyes, "is Drake. We found you in our backyard. What happened to you?"

Carolina hung her head. "My plane..." she whispered. "I crashed it." The pain that was so obvious in her voice revealed to the mother and daughter how much she loved her aircraft.

"You have your own plane?" Drake asked, sticking his head back in the room.

"Had," Carolina corrected sadly. "I had my own plane."

Belle directed a glare at the boy that sent him skittering back where he had come.

"Go on, sweetie," Mrs. Marlington encouraged.

Carolina rubbed her head. "I was flying and had to help my friend..." she trailed off, trying to remember Seychelles's human name. "...Michelle. Feliciano was with me. We had to save her from some pirates."

"Pirates?" Drake exclaimed, appearing at the door again. "Real pirates?"

"Yeah, real pirates," she confirmed. But I used up too much gas and couldn't make it back to the landing strip. After Michelle and Feliciano parachuted out, I had to crash land the plane in that wheat field."

"Of all the wheat fields to pick, you had to choose that wanker, Mr. Gavin's field to land in. He's has to be over a hundred years old. It takes that long to get that mean." Drake commented.

"_Drake! The tea!"_

Both Belle and her mother shouted at the boy at the same time, causing him to jump and rush back to the kitchen.

Belle rolled her eyes at her little brother while the mother continued feeding Carolina her soup.

"My dad will be along soon. I'm sure he'll find me," she told the two.

"Well then, we'll make certain you're nice and healthy by the time he gets here!" Mrs. Marlington said, standing up to put the empty bowl away. When she left, Drake came and took her place, casting a few wary glances in his sister's direction before offering the tea cup to Carolina.

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup and sipping the still-hot liquid. She did not like it all that much, mostly because she grew up drinking coffee and Koolaid for most meals, but the warmth it brought her was comforting enough that she could ignore the taste.

She glanced up at the siblings, admiring how much they looked alike. Though Belle was a few years older than the boy, he was nearly the same height as her. They both had dark, slightly wavy hair, round faces and brown eyes, though Drake's were a shade darker than Belle's. The brother and sister pair were quietly arguing over something and she smiled, thinking of her own brother, Carter. She hoped her father would find her soon.

Looking out the window that the bed she was laying on had been placed beside, she gazed up at the rising sun. America would find her. He was the hero, after all.

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**Author's Note**

**This is Shadow. I did not write this chapter, Silver did. I'm just posting it because she's too sick to do much of anything except lay in her bed and watch Lord of the Rings. Seriously, she has been in bed for several days and done nothing but sleep, eat, and comment on all her favorite parts. Then she'll occasional tell me that re-watching it has given her new ideas for her LotR fanfiction. So, that will probably be updated soon. If you are reading that, keep an eye out for it.**

**So, hope you enjoyed it for Silver's sake, read and review, blah blah blah.**

**(I'm still gonna put my ending whether it's her story or not!)**

**Smiling increases your beauty by eighty five percent! So go for it!**

**See ya, folks,**

**-Shadow**


	15. Chapter 15

**I do not own Hetalia. (Howdy! I am back from the dead!)**

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Carolina was feeling so much better by the time afternoon rolled around. The family of three (four, if you counted Sage, the golden setter) took meticulous care of her. Mrs. Marlington made certain that she was properly fed, Belle was in charge of keeping her comfortable, and Drake made himself the official entertainer, providing Carolina with amusing stories or showing her some of the odds and ends he collected and refurbished for different uses. Sage had stayed close to her bedside, giving her a constant comfort, as he would nudge her side with his nose whenever he wished to be petted. Eventually Carolina had come to fondling the dog's ears absentmindedly as she listened with intrigued ears to Drake's tales.

Her leg injury was not as bad as it had first seemed, and her fever had subsided during the night, leaving Carolina feeling pumped and ready to go. She was at last allowed on her feet after Mrs. Marlington checked her wounded leg one last time.

"How does it feel, dearie?" the woman asked.

"Not too bad, ma'am. I can manage," Carolina replied, taking a few experimental steps forward. Drake stood to her left, ready to catch her should she lose her balance.

But to their surprise, Carolina healed quickly, and the girl was steady on her feet in spite of the bandages around her leg.

"I'll admit, I have never seen a wound heal that quick before," Drake told her.

Carolina flashed him a grin. "I'm the Hero's sidekick! Of course I heal fast!"

Both Belle and Drake looked at her with puzzled expressions.

"Sorry?" Drake quizzed.

"Never mind,"Carolina said, brushing it off.

"Well, hero or nor hero," Mrs. Marlington declared, "that quick healing is in your favor. You did say that your Dad would be around soon, wouldn't he?"

"Oh, definitely!" she confirmed. "He should be here any time! But first, I want to talk to that farmer whose field I crashed into."

"Oh, you don't want to do that," Belle said, shaking her head.

Carolina glanced over at the older girl, head tilted sideways. "Why not?" she asked.

"Like I said before," Drake continued for his sister, "Old Gavin's as mean as a three-legged, one-eyed wolf."

"He acts so rudely to just about everyone, and no one knows why," Belle said.

"He's got a stick up his arse, is what," Drake muttered under his breath.

"Drake!" his mother scolded, smacking the boy soundly in the back of the head. He tried to duck the blow, but failed and grabbed at his head, letting out a yelp of pain.

"Well," Carolina said, "I'd still like to apologize."

"Won't do you a bit a good, but I won't be the one to stop you," Mrs. Marlington said. "Just as long as you take Sage and one of those two with you."

Carolina smiled and wrapped her arms around the woman, giving her a hearty hug. "Thank you, ma'am!" she said.

"No trouble, little one. I can see you were determined to do it whether you had my say or not. I've dealt with a few stubborn ones before." She looked pointedly at Drake as she spoke, while the boy did his best to look as innocent as possible.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Belle exclaimed, pulling the front door open. "Come on, you two, we haven't got all day, you know!"

Carolina raced out the door, taking heed not to put too much weight on her injured leg, with Drake coming up right behind her and Sage taking up the rear.

"We'll be back soon, Mum!" The boy called as he rushed out the door.

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"This is where we found you," Belle said, pointing to the ground where Carolina had been laying only the night before. "And speaking of which, I believe these are yours."

Belle pulled a pair of goggles out of her pocket and handed them to Carolina. The girl's eyes lit up at the sight of them, unperturbed by the crack that ran down one lens. She pulled them over her head and smiled, feeling much better with the familiar attire adorning her head. Then she felt her neck and realized that her necklace was missing.

"You didn't find a necklace with a lighthouse pendant, did you?" Carolina asked worriedly.

Belle shook her head then glanced at her brother.

"Nope," Drake replied. "I can't say we did."

Carolina let out a sigh. "I must have lost it," she said dejectedly. "Oh, well."

"I'm really sorry," Belle told her, realizing how much the piece of jewelry must have meant to the girl by how disappointed she appeared to be.

"It's all right," Carolina said with a wave of her hand, though her tone of voice directly contradicted her statement. It was very obviously not all right.

But the girl did not have long to stay depressed when Sage, facing the direction of Gavin's field, began barking up a storm.

All three looked down the hill to see what had set the dog on alert and Carolina let out an excited squeal that was so loud, Sage paused in his racket-making to shake his head at the high-pitched sound emanating from the copper-haired girl.

What had caused Carolina to nearly break glass with her voice was the sight of a group of three men advancing up the hill to where she stood with her new friends. In particular, it was the man in the middle who held her attention, his stature, movement, and appearance identifying him as the one and only personification of the United States of America, her father and hero.

"Dad!" she shouted from the hilltop in an overjoyed voice.

America had his head down as he trudged up the hill toward the house he was hoping his daughter was in. It had taken a very long time to navigate through the wheat field, which was much larger than he had originally thought. Upon finally exiting the field, in which they became lost in countless times despite the trail they had attempted to follow, America, England, and Prussia had found themselves on a different side of the field then the one Carolina had come out on. None of the three were aware of this, however, and had just proceeded to making their way to the house at the top of the hill.

In short, the three nations had taken the longest route possible from the crash site to the house and were by no definitions in a good mood.

When the shrill and delighted voice of his twelfth child carried down the hill to where he stood, America's head shot up and he caught sight of his beloved little girl, standing beside two other children and a dog, waving her hands above her head at him.

His spirits soared and he called her name, astonishment and relief quite obvious in his voice as he sprinted up the hill faster than he had ever dared to run.

Prussia and England let out collective sighs of relief at the sight of North Carolina alive and unharmed as far as they could see. The albino glanced over at his companion and sent him a very obvious and deliberate look that read, I told you so!

And England had never been so happy to be proved wrong.

Carolina, tears streaming and hair flying, raced down the hill toward her father, her heart now as light as a feather, while Drake and Belle watched from above. Smiles were permanently plastered on their faces as they watched father and daughter at last collide, embracing one another for the first time in twenty four hours. The bond between them was strong, the siblings could see that, and it filled them with joy knowing that their newfound friend had such a caring father.

Drake laughed as he saw Sage bound happily down the hill and begin circling around the two, barking and yapping for all he was worth. Then the boy glanced up at his sister and they held a knowing look. The sight of Carolina and her father sent a pained, but warm feeling through them that showed on their faces. They did not voice their thoughts, but they both knew who the other was thinking of: their own loving, deceased father.

America had never felt so relieved since the Civil War was announced to be over and he doubted he would ever feel the same again as he clutched Carolina wordlessly to him, allowing her to cry freely into his shoulder. His throat was tight and he could not speak if he tried. Holding his daughter close to him, feeling the leather of her bomber jacket and burying his nose into her reddish-brown stands of hair let him know that this was not a dream. Carolina was really okay, alive, and in his arms. He should have expected no less from his little girl.

Pulling away from him, Carolina looked into his eyes, seeing the unshed tears of happiness that lay behind his sky-blue orbs.

"Dad? Was I a hero?" she asked.

The statement was her way of confirming that her previous passengers were okay. She had been worried about Seychelles and Italy for some time now, hoping that they had both made it down safely. Seeing her father had lessened her worries, but she still had to know if her sacrifice had been worth it.

America rested his forehead on hers, smiling blissfully at Carolina.

"Yes, Carolina. You're a hero."

That short phrase in and of itself spoke volumes of how proud America was of Carolina, and that calmed her mind tremendously. With a smile full of sunshine, the girl once more gave her father a hug, relishing in the simple fact that he was here with her.

The world was once more at peace.

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Introductions to the family who had taken care of her went around, and the group of foreigners plus Arthur were pretty much forced into a promise of returning to the Marlington household sometime for dinner. Prussia had made himself well admired by Drake, which was of no surprise to his sister, while England and Mrs. Marlington held deep conversations about tea and the years gone by. Carolina and America played with Sage, who liked the man just as much as he liked his daughter. Belle demonstrated the tricks Sage was capable of, much to Carolina's delight. When Prussia returned Carolina's necklace, she began telling Belle about the many lighthouses of North Carolina, explaining how one lighthouse was actually transported farther back inland after many feared the receding beach put it in danger.

Farewells were incredibly difficult on Carolina's part, but she pulled herself together and gave each member of the family, including Sage, a big hug and a promise to return. Mrs. Marlington, though England, America, Prussia, and Carolina all knew basic first aid, gave very specific instructions on how to properly treat her injury when she returned home, as well as advising caution with how the girl should walk or run for the next several days. Carolina had listened patiently, more for the older woman's sake than her own.

The four soon left the house and headed down toward the wheat field, waving to the Marlingtons and shouting their goodbyes, on their way to give an official apology to Mr. Gavin and look one last time at what was left of Spirit of Freedom.

Carolina was questioned several times on whether or not she really wanted to take another look at her retired plane, and each time she answered positively. Upon approaching the destroyed machine, Carolina only stood and gazed at it from a distance, a glossy shimmer in her eyes. Her heart ached but she said not a word as she stood there, staring at her cherished plane for the last time. America placed a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Carolina stood still for a few more minutes before turning and walking briskly away from the pile of debris. Soon, someone would come out and clean the mess up, leaving only scorch marks and grooves in the earth to show where the plane had crash landed, but even those would soon be covered up by nature, giving no implication to anyone else that there had ever been an accident. She would get a new plane. And she would fly it over this very spot one day, she promised.

The group left the crash site and began making their way to the house near the field.

"I was told by the Marlingtons that Mr. Gavin is not the most pleasant of fellows to be around," Carolina said.

"Don't we know it," Prussia muttered, remembering the farmer who had come after them with a pitchfork when they had first arrived at the field.

England glanced at America with a concerned look.

"Perhaps I should do the talking?" he suggested.

"Oh, relax, Iggy. I got this. I know how to deal with difficult people!" the nation confirmed.

"Yeah, you ignore them," Prussia said.

"Hey, I'm the one who is supposed to be doing the apologizing!" Carolina insisted.

"Don't worry," America told her, "you will. We just have to kinda prepare the groundwork, so to speak."

"Let's try not to make anyone mad, shall we?" England pleaded.

Carolina giggled. "Oh, please! Who could get mad at this face?"

The girl made her eyes wide, lowered her head, and looked up with the most saddened and innocent expression she could manage, successfully pulling off the puppy-dog eyes.

Prussia slapped her on the back. "Haha! Awesome! Nice job, Spicey!" he exclaimed. "The ultimate weapon is in order!"

Carolina dropped the look and let a cheeky grin break out onto her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but froze when the yard of the house came into view. She halted mid-step, one foot still hovering in the air as she stared directly in front of her.

Standing in the yard and talking to a man who was obviously Mr. Gavin, were four of the ten boys she had beat up during her rescue of Seychelles on the water yesterday evening.

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**Author's Note**

**I CAN EXPLAIN WHY I AM SO LATE, REALLY I CAN! PLEASE DON'T BE MAD!**

**To put it simply, that little sickness I had turned into something worse and then spread to my entire family, leaving all of us pretty much zombies. I'm still not fully over it, but I have been spending most of my time taking care of Mom and bro, so I couldn't get back to the story. Shadow is pretty sick now, too, so you won't hear from him in a while. To all of you people who I have not responded to, I apologize. I will get to you as soon as possible. Thank you for your continued support!**

**Also, I'm hoping this story makes it to one hundred reviews! If it does, I am offering a gift to the 100th reviewer! Its a surprise so I won't tell you what it is yet. OooooooOOoooo!**

**Read and review like I know you will!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-A Very Sick and Half-Dead Silver**


	16. Chapter 16

**I do not own Hetalia. But I do own an American flag! Hero power!**

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Amber eyes widened considerably and her steps halted as Carolina stood staring in shock at the people before her. This was impossible. There was no way in the world that this could be true. She must be mistaken. There was no way that she was staring at who she thought she was staring at. Her mind was playing tricks on her, is what it was. The rudeness of Mr. Gavin had caused her to immediately think about the boys that had been messing with Seychelles, and because of that, she had automatically matched up the faces of her victims with the boys standing around the man. That was it. Those boys were definitely not the same boys from yesterday. No way, no how, no sir.

Carolina took a deep breath and attempted to recover from her initial startle. Placing one foot in front of the other, she continued moving forward, but her sudden stop had not gone unnoticed by her father. America gazed down at her quizzically, trying to catch her eye. Her wondered for a moment if Carolina had come in contact with Gavin before hand and was just now realizing it. Thinking that she might be a bit nervous at facing this incredibly rude man and was losing her nerve, America placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder to reassure her. However, when he did so, he felt her entire body trembling beneath his touch.

Dropping down to one knee in front of Carolina, America looked her in the eye, searching her expression for a reason behind her odd behavior. She avoided direct eye contact with him at first, but eventually turned her amber irises on his blue ones, her worry and uncertainty quite visible. Prussia knelt down as well, not sure as to why the two had stopped.

"Spicey? You okay?" he asked. America waited patiently for her to answer the albino's question, wondering if she would be willing to tell them what was wrong. After all, she was his daughter, and he never had been one to immediately tell those around him when he had problem. Their pride did not allow that many times.

"I can do this," Carolina responded in a quiet but firm tone. She had let them all know that she was continuing on, whether or not she was actually okay. America searched her face one more time before giving her an understanding smile. Carolina returned it, but not quite as big as it usually was. Prussia stood to his feet once more and gave her head a pat.

"Let's go, Spice. Make this awesome!"

Carolina smiled at him, then took her father's hand and continued toward the group.

England felt rather left out of the whole thing, realizing that he did not know Carolina enough to even be able to notice that something was bothering her. This thought made him upset with himself, since he had not even tried to get to know her. For some reason, he wanted that sunshine-filled smile to be given to him, though he could not quite pinpoint why he wanted that. Determining within himself to finding a way to make her like him, the Englishman began contemplating what he could do. What would surprise and please her? What would make her want to smile at him like she did for everyone else? What could he do that would be worthy of one of her hugs?

England suddenly shook his head. Wait, he wanted a hug from her? Yes, he realized. He did. And as soon as he thought it, an idea came to him. He knew exactly what to do. But it would have to wait.

Carolina was becoming more and more nervous as she approached the group ahead of her, because the closer she came to them, the more she convinced herself that these were the same boys. In fact, from this view, she could see a few bruises on the arms of one boy who had his sleeves rolled up, and she wondered if they were from a fishing pole. She gulped as she came closer to the boys. America gave her hand a squeeze.

"Excuse me!" the nation called out.

All five faces turned in their direction, and Carolina felt her heart drop out of her stomach. It was them. There was no way it could not be them. She almost lowered her head to hide her face, but immediately berated herself for even thinking of doing such a thing. She was American, and she walked with her head held high. Taking a deep breath, Carolina followed her father as they approached the four boys and Mr. Gavin.

"Who the hell are you?" The large man asked in a thick, gruff voice, giving them a one-eyed glare. "And what're you doing on my property?"

"My name is Alfred, sir! Alfred F. Jones, and I would like to talk to you for a minute. My daughter here wants to tell you something!" At this, Carolina stepped forward, giving the grumpy farmer her most disarming smile. Mr. Gavin remained resolutely un-disarmed.

But it was not Gavin's face that had her attention. As recognition settled in to the minds of the four boys, they all gave a jump of surprise at the same time and took an involuntary step away from the girl. Their reactions caused a giggle to form in Carolina's throat, but she kept it down. Lifting a hand, she waved at them all, smiling kindly in their direction. Her expression held no trace of smugness, as the boys had assumed it would have. The boy who appeared to be the youngest even waved back, very discreetly, of course.

"Well, what is it, girl, speak up!" Gavin suddenly barked.

"Oh, yes!" Carolina exclaimed. "I may have accidentally crashed my plane in your field!"

Silence followed this very direct and to-the-point explanation of why she was here. No one had expected her to say it all outright and upfront the way she did. Gavin was speechless for a moment, but rage was slowly building up in his eyes.

Prussia took a step closer to Carolina, worried for her safety, while England took a step back, worried for his own safety. America just stood there with a stupid grin on his face, oblivious to Mr. Gavin's gradually increasing wrath. Carolina had her eyes shut and was smiling, also oblivious to what was happening.

No one knew exactly how the situation would have turned out had things not gone the way they did. Perhaps Mr. Gavin would have tried to sue the Jones, who knows. But anything that would have happened, didn't, due to one of the boys, the youngest of the four, bursting into laughter. He nearly fell over because of his fit, tumbling into one of his brothers as he pointed weakly in Carolina's direction. The stares he was receiving from everyone else went unheeded by him as tears streamed down his face from the amount of energy he was exerting through laughing.

Everyone might have gone on staring had Carolina not suddenly joined in with her bell-like laughter. The boy stumbled over to her and took her hand in his, shaking it heartily as they both laughed.

"It is a great pleasure, indeed, to meet you, Ms. Jones!" he proclaimed in between fits. Carolina was giggling as she returned the handshake.

"And what a pleasure it is to meet you properly, Mr. Gavin, I presume?" she replied.

The boy nodded, still laughing, and it was not long before the other three boys had made their way over to Carolina and began shaking her hand while chuckling gleefully at their predicament.

America was confused as he stood behind his daughter, who only moments before looked painstakingly worried at the prospect of speaking to this man and his sons, but was now laughing and shaking their hands as though she already knew them, despite the fact that they were passing out introductions.

"Carolina, you know them?"

The girl glanced up at her father and then back at the four boys with a contemplative look. "Yes, you could say that," she said with a wink.

Another fit of laughter overtook all of the young people once more and America could get no more out of his daughter. Mr. Gavin looked downright flabbergasted at everything that was happening, and England suddenly worried that he may get angry again, and he would have been correct. Annoyed with how his sons were reacting to this girl who had crashed into his field, Mr. Gavin felt even more wrath build up toward Alfred and Carolina. On impulse, England stepped around America to stand before the farmer.

"Sir," he said quickly, "on behalf of being a good friend of the Jones family, I will pay for any and all damages done to your field."

America sent his former big brother a surprised look at this. "You will do what?"" he asked.

"Shut up, Alfred!" England hissed under his breath.

Since America was not going to step down from someone paying something for him, the nation said no more on the matter.

Carolina held a strange conversation with the four boys that neither America, Prussia, England, or Mr. Gavin could understand. It involved fishing poles, floppy hats, tuna, boats, and something about large birds. Though it confused the older men, Carolina seemed to understand it all and even responded with other topics that did not have anything to do with each other.

One very odd farewell later, as the group was walking back to where they had parked the Land Rover by the road, Carolina gave each boy one of her massive hugs and whispered something to each of them. They all went a little red around the gills at that, but smiled and waved as she walked away with her father, Mr. Gavin still scratching his head and mumbling to himself as they left.

"Carolina?"

"Hmm?" The copper-haired girl turned wide, innocent eyes on her dad, as if she knew what he was going to ask. She blinked several times and kept her expression blank as she stared into his face that was plastered with confusion.

America saw how hard she was working to keep up her 'I Don't Know Anything' act up, which she did not have to use very often. The last time she had used that look had been many, many years ago when he got a tip that her state was making a good amount of money off of moonshine. That had been interesting.

With Carolina refusing to tell him what was going on unless she outright asked him, in which case she would never lie, America decided to let the matter drop.

"Never mind."

Carolina smiled up at him and squeezed his hand.

"One word?" he pleaded, giving her his own puppy-face.

Carolina gave in. "Pirates," she said.

"Pirates?" England echoed.

"Pirates," Carolina confirmed.

America and Prussia still looked confused, but for the first time since she had arrived, England and Carolina shared a knowing look. England sent her a smile and a mischievous wink, which the state returned with a giggle.

"I have a book on real pirates that I could let you borrow if you wish, Carolina," England said.

Carolina nodded her head as she walked. "Sweet! I'd love to, Mr. England!"

"Just England. Or Arthur."

And they both smiled again.

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"Carolina! Carolina!"

The girl's head shot up as she stepped out of the vehicle, seeing Italy and Seychelles standing in front of England's home, wide grins on their faces and relieved looks in their eyes. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that they were both unharmed and well. When she climbed completely out of the Land Rover, both nations jumped her with a squeal. As she hugged her friends, Carolina was uncertain of who was laughing and who was crying, but she honestly did not care. It was a tearful and joyful reunion all around as France and Germany stood back watching the group.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Carolina! We were so worried and we thought you were injured and we didn't know if we would ever see you again but Germany said you'd be okay and Germany is always right, well most of the time anyway, but I'm glad he was right about this and I am so happy to see you, can I have another hug?"

Carolina gave the excited Italian another hug, more than happy to hear his voice again. When she turned to hug Seychelles, she leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"The pirates apologized," she said.

Seychelles looked at the state in shock, but Carolina only smiled and gave her an assuring nod.

"You can work miracles, Carolina," Seychelles said in astonishment.

"Well, of course she can!" America exclaimed, stepping forward. "She's a hero!"

And Carolina had never felt more proud.

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**Author's Note**

**Almost finished folks! One more chapter and then the epilogue! Can we reach one hundred reviews? I think we can! Thank you so much for the support you guys have given me! I love you all!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	17. Chapter 17

**I do not own Hetalia.**

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Throughout the remainder of the day, Carolina spent her time with Italy, Seychelles, France, Germany, and of course, her dad, lounging in France's hotel room and going over everything that had happened. Romano had popped in with the intent of just checking on his brother, but was eventual forced to stay by Carolina. Now that everything was all over with, it was easy for the three adventurers to look back and laugh at some of the things that had happened.

Seychelles, who sat curled up in France's lap the whole time, took it upon herself to describe how Carolina defended her. Having inherited the Frenchman's exaggerating qualities when it came to storytelling, the tale came out much fancier and more elaborate than Carolina remembered. To be fair, the state had had a lot on her mind while it was all going down, so maybe it seemed far more intense to Seychelles than it really was. With no desire to inform the group of the much tamer version of the story, Carolina let Seychelles portray her as she wanted.

Italy was seated on the coach beside Germany, Romano to his left, and he decided to tell everyone about how he flew an airplane. Nobody believed him at first, but when Carolina and Seychelles assisted him with the whole story, it was proved that, yes, Italy did fly the plane without crashing it into the sun, a feat that only Italy would have been capable of.

"Can I have my own plane, Germany?"

"_No!_" exclaimed Romano and Germany together.

The talked for a long time until Carolina's eyelids began to droop. She had been sitting upright on the floor up against the sofa, but now she was leaning to the side, resting her head on America's legs.

"Time to go back to the hotel," America said, scooping up his daughter and bidding a farewell to the nations in the room.

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Since the two were leaving to go back to the States the day after next, Carolina refused to go to sleep until she had organized a barbecue party for all of the nations to attend the next day. She had been horrified to hear that barbecue parties were uncommon in Britain and set about to change that. All night long, she and America stayed up organizing the party that would go down in the history of World Meetings. They invited everybody they knew and planned on cooking all morning to have it ready by tomorrow evening.

Over on the other side of the city, England was making plans as well, but of different kind. He had made several calls that night and was just finishing up the second to last one. After hitting 'end call' on his screen, he stared off into space for a moment, leaning back in his chair to consider his most recent decision. He set his mobile down on the desktop and stretched his arms and legs to rid them of the cramps that had formed from sitting idle for so long. Reaching to his neck, the Englishman loosened his tie from where it nearly suffocated him. The dark blue jacket that matched his navy trousers had been discarded some hours ago and lay neatly across another chair in his office. With a sigh, England rubbed his eyes to keep himself awake for just a little while longer. The green digital numbers on his watch told him that midnight was quickly approaching. And he still had one last phone call to make that was of the upmost importance.

Leaning forward in his chair once more, England picked up his phone from where it lay and stared at the dark screen, his drooping emerald eyes filled with worry and exhaustion.

One more sigh escaped from him and he let all of his worries out with it, taking up enough courage to slowly and carefully key in the number for the Manor of America.

"Hello?" a voice with a rather distinguished southern accent greeted over the device.

England cleared his throat before launching into an introduction.

"Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland speaking. If possible, may I have a word with a Mr. Carter S. Jones?"

Silence greeted this request and England feared for a moment that the person on the other end had hung up.

"Speaking," the voice finally said. "And I know it's you, England."

England suddenly noticed that his palms were sweaty, and he placed the one not holding the phone under his desk, not bothering to realize that the boy on the phone would not have been able to see his hands if they were sweating or not.

It most likely would not have mattered anyhow. He was certain his nerves were showing through his speech.

"I have... a proposal... of sorts, for you, South Carolina. It is for your sister, so I suggest you consider it carefully."

Again, England was met with only silence and he wondered how deep the hatred for him was set in America's children. Would it prevent him from what he wished to do? He hoped not, for everything was nearly all in motion.

It was with great relief that Carter, being the caring brother that he was, let a miniscule amount of interest leak into his voice.

"I'm listening..."

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"Dad! Can you bring me some more Thousand Island Dressing?" Carolina called across the park.

"Coming!" was the reply as America rushed over and set the bottle down on the table Carolina was working on.

The girl had on her usual apparel, yellow sun dress, striped socks, and soft leather boots, minus the bomber jacket, which was currently being well guarded by Italy. In its place, the girl had thrown a grey apron over her clothes that read in embroidered letters 'King of the Grill'. Her amber eyes were focused on the bowl in front of her that was filled nearly to the brim with raw ground beef. With trained hands she dumped a proper amount of the dressing into a separate bowl to use later as a marinade for the chicken. Tossing a few more spices into her bowl of beef, she began kneading the meat in her hands to fold the seasonings into the beef.

The tip of her tongue was protruding out of her mouth as she concentrated on her task at hand. So focused was she, that the appearance of the southern Italian brother near her workplace went unnoticed. Romano watched the girl as she made seemingly random measurements with her seasonings and sprinkled them into the bowl before she went back to folding the meat over and over.

Though there was nothing spectacular or fancy about her method of preparing a meal, Romano had noticed that she put her heart into whatever she was doing, be it washing the lettuce, pounding the meat, or flipping the juicy chicken legs that lay in a neat, delicious row on the grill a few feet away. He had never tried any of the strange concoctions that America and his daughter were whipping up, except for the hamburgers which he had already determined that he hated, but even he had to admit that the barbecued chicken legs looked heavenly, even if he only admitted it to himself. The half-nation was unaware of how long he had been standing there, saliva building up in his mouth as the smell of sweet-n-spicy barbecue sauce drifted into his nose and warmed his senses, but his musings over the food cooking on the grill were interrupted by a small bowl suddenly being shoved into his hands.

"Here. Go fill this thing with pepper. Not all the way, but about at the half line."

Carolina did not even glance up as she gave Romano the directions, and under normal circumstances, he would have protested being ordered around in such a way. But he was an Italian, and cooking was one of their passions. Though he felt a bit out of place in the middle of the preparations for the barbecue party (that is what they were calling it, right?), he decided that he wanted to be of assistance. Never having put much faith in Western cultures or their food, Romano was actually interested to see what Carolina would come up with.

Of course, he was still Romano.

"You could have said 'please'," he mumbled, taking the bowl from her and heading towards the spices table to search for pepper.

"Please and thank you, Romano!" Carolina said cheerfully, actually looking up at him as she spoke, a playful glint in her eyes.

Romano only huffed and continued on his way.

Italy was also an observer of Carolina's work, though he was much more vocal about his thoughts than his brother. Wearing Carolina's beloved bomber jacket, the energetic nation made certain to keep a good distance away from the food, but that did not stop him from asking her every question his mind could possibly come up with. And somehow, in between kneading the meat, lathering the chicken legs with more sauce, and slicing up some fresh tomatoes, Carolina was able to answer all of the pasta obsessed nation's inquiries. That in and of itself was a feat to be awed.

"Dad! Did you flip the ribs?" Carolina yelled across the park again.

"Whoa! Yes, now I have!" he told her with a laugh.

England had happily rented a park for Carolina's farewell barbecue... thing, and it was quite busy right now, even before the party had started. With help from several nations and a few good friends, the park was being transformed into a party headquarters, with wooden picnic tables and grills lined up nearly everywhere. The grills had been shipped in overnight, and it had cost a good amount to do so, but of course, being a nation had its privileges.

America could not wait for the party to kick off. He did not know how much longer he could stand being around all of this food without eating any of it. Glancing to his left, he saw Carolina chatting animatedly with Italy, who was being his usual excitable self. To his right, he saw Romano and a few other nations standing by the spices table, paying no attention to him.

With a sneaky grin, America picked up one of the fat burgers that had already been cooked and began to move slowly towards the condiments table. Before he could get very far, something hard and cold was rapped against his knuckles and he moved his wrist just in time to drop the burger patty on the table and not onto the ground.

Looking up caused him to come face to face with Russia, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Either that or he had been standing there the whole time, which would have been nearly impossible unless he was a ninja. Which he wasn't. Could Russians even be ninjas? That would be weird. A Russian ninja. The empty vodka bottles that he left behind would definitely give him away.

But back to the matter at hand, America glared up at the tall, ash blond nation.

"What was that for, dude?" he complained.

Russia smiled at the nation before pointing to a star-shaped badge that was pinned to his scarf. The badge read _Food Security Force _in golden engraved letters. Then the Russian reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a length of paper, which he unrolled to reveal a black and white photo of America himself with a burger hanging out of his mouth and a shocked look on his face. In big black letters above the picture it said _Wanted._

America's jaw dropped as he stared at what Russia was showing him. "You've got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed.

The ash blond nation shook his head and held his silver pipe out, resting it on America's neck.

"I was given this authority by Carolina herself. Do not make me have to demonstrate what I am allowed to do to convicted criminals," Russia said.

America huffed and crossed his arms, but walked away from the table of prepared food, muttering 'Traitor' under his breath as he went. He was definitely not scared of that guy at all, or of his little badge, or that metal pipe that could probably do some serious damage. Nope, not scared one bit. Heroes didn't get scared. Okay, maybe they did, but he was not scared right now. He was just saving the burgers for later like he was supposed to. That's why he walked away. Yep, he was still being a hero.

"Daaaaad! The ribs!"

"Oh, right!" America shouted, rushing back to the grill. He smiled as he flipped the thick, juicy pieces of meat. This was going to be the best barbecue party England had ever had.

00000

**Author's Note**

**I know that it's short, but I was rushing. Half of my Dad's side of the family surprised us by showing up yesterday and I had to help mom prepare stuff. But I have good news! This is not the last chapter before the Epilogue! I will do one more and then the epilogue! Look forward to it! We are almost at one hundred reviews guys! We can do this! I love you all! Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	18. Chapter 18

**I do not own Hetalia. Last chapter guys! I love you all!**

00000

Carolina gave the cord a yank before she placed her foot on top of the speaker and looked out over the crowd of people. There were so many of them, all either eating or chatting with someone else. She gulped away her nerves and took a deep breath before shouting into the microphone.

"What's up y'all?"

A rousing cheer met her question and she smiled at the enthusiasm as she watched the people below her wave their arms above their heads and shout her name.

"Are you ready to party, or are you ready to party?" she yelled.

"Yeah!"

Turning around, Carolina winked at the three people behind her. America was holding a bass guitar and waving to the crowd, looking completely at home in his leather jacket, black jeans, tall boots, and American flag T-shirt. Behind him, Canada was sitting at a drum set, twirling his drumsticks in the air, his red Maple flag hoodie suited him well. So did his light blue jeans and high top red-n-white converses. But what had everyone shocked was the man who held lead electric guitar. It was England, wearing a black tank top and leather pants. A pair of coal-colored combat boots were on his feet and around his neck was a Union Jack bandana. His face displayed the most smug look he had ever worn. Instead of waving, he sent the crowd a two-fingered salute.

About half the females fainted at the sight before their eyes.

"Hey, Arthur!" America shouted to the punk. England sent the nation beside him a sly look. "Let's kick it!" the independent nation shouted, and the music began.

England slammed on the strings of his guitar and Canada spun his drumsticks one last time before bringing them down to start the intro of the song. It wasn't long before America picked up the beat and joined the two. The rhythm spread like wild fire as the people below the stage let it move through them and broke into dancing.

"Whoo, yeah!" Carolina shouted as she hopped off of the stage into the crowd. Italy tackled her into a hug the minute she did so, laughing and telling Carolina how amazing barbecue parties were and how much he wanted to throw one. Seychelles soon followed suit, but not before Carolina caught sight of a brother and sister pair making their way over to her.

"Drake! Belle!" she cried as they came closer. The two siblings joined the group hug as well, even though they didn't know who Italy and Seychelles were.

"This is brilliant!" Drake exclaimed when he let go of the girl. "I have never seen such an amazing party!"

Belle laughed with her brother."This _is_ amazing, Carolina!"

While Carolina introduced Italy and Seychelles, Romano was trying to figure out the food. When he bit into the first piece of barbecued rib, he did not know what to think. It did not make his eyes pop open at the sudden sharp taste that shot through his body, like some foods did. There was no sharp taste. It did not cause his head to explode due to the complicated mixes of seasonings, because the ingredients were actually quite simple. It did not even make him want to melt into the floor from pure deliciousness. When the ribmeat touched his tongue, he simply felt a warm sensation flow through him. It was not very thrilling, it just made him feel... at home. He was eating what was called a home cooked meal. Homestead food. He glared suspiciously at the rib in his hand, wondering whether or not he liked it. Glancing down at the four bones on his paper plate, he concluded that he must.

"Can you taste the love?" Carolina asked, having suddenly appeared out of nowhere and bumped into his shoulder with her back.

"Can I _what_?" Romano shouted in surprise, backing away from the girl.

Carolina giggled, and pointed to his food. "Home made food is different from restaurant food because it has been cooked with pure love added to every meal! Because it was made for specific people, not random customers, the love is that much more prominent! Can ya taste it?" Carolina hopped up and down, clapping her hands.

"Umm..." Romano looked nervously at the food. "Yeah, I taste it," he said thoughtfully. Then he shook his head. "I mean... that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Anybody can make a dish with love in it, that doesn't make yours special!"

Carolina shrugged. "That's okay! Everyone has their own opinion of the food, and most of them love it, some people just have their own way of telling me!" She hugged Romano tightly.

"Will you cut that out!" he hissed.

"I know you love it, Lovino," she whispered in his ear. "You've eaten eight ribs."

And she disappeared into the crowd.

Lovino cursed the blush that spread across his face as she skipped away.

00000

"Thanks for coming out, y'all! Its been real!" Carolina shouted above the crowd who was cheering for the three performers. America, England, and Canada had made the crowd go crazy with their music. Each of them were shocked at their own talent. Okay, Canada and England were shocked, America knew he was awesome. They had performed a good number of songs and England had even sung a few well-known ones. Now that night was falling, the performing was soon to be over and everyone was just going to mingle and mill about to enjoy each others company. But apparently, that was not to be.

"Were not done yet," England said, stepping over to Carolina and snatching the mic. The girl looked surprised at this, wondering what he was doing. "All of you are well aware that Carolina lost her plane a few days ago, correct?"

There was a murmur throughout the crowd that showed they had acknowledged this. Carolina herself squinted her eyes at the nation suspiciously. America glanced back at Canada to see if he knew what was going on, but the maple-loving nation seemed confused by everything as well. When the murmuring had ended, England continued.

"Well, as a good friend of her father's–"

America snorted and Canada smacked his head with a drumstick.

"–I would like to present her with something special!"

Everyone looked confused at the silence that followed this statement, until England pointed to the sky. Streaming across the evening horizon like a solid streak of color came an airplane. It was almost identical to the Spirit of Freedom, but instead of having a tan and yellow body, it was painted in a brilliant red with yellow lightning strikes running along it. The highway directly behind the park had been blocked off that afternoon and was to be used for a runway. The plane came in for a landing, heading straight for the road.

Carolina's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she kept them trained on the beautiful machine as it came closer to earth.

"For her bravery and courage and being a completely brilliant hero, I would like to present this plane to Caroline A. Jones." England spread one arm out to indicate the plane.

Tears formed and began spilling out of her amber eyes at the sight before her. The red plane touched down, and as soon as it did, the crowd erupted into cheers. Most of the nations as well as Drake and Belle knew how much Carolina loved her plane and how hard she had taken the loss. England's generous gift was beyond what any of them had thought he would do. America's jaw nearly fell off at what he was seeing. Canada covered his mouth and grinned. England was watching the plane when he was suddenly tackled to the ground by a sobbing girl. Carolina, who had dropped the other microphone she had picked up when England snatched hers and dashed across the stage, gripped his shirt and bawled loudly into his chest, elated beyond what she could describe at the amazing gift she had received from the nation her siblings hated. No matter what happened, from this moment on, Carolina loved this man. And she said so.

"I'll love you forever, Arthur!" she wailed between sobs. There was nothing more she could say to show how much this present meant to her. She just let the tears fall and hoped England understood how much she loved this gift.

England sat up on his elbows and put an arm around the girl, glad that she loved her plane. He fingered her copper-colored hair and patted her back, showing that he got the message. The price of the aircraft that he had been fretting over earlier seemed to matter a lot less, now that he saw her reaction. He had received the hug he wanted. He didn't know that it felt this good.

"You're welcome, Lina," he said fondly, giving her his own personal nickname that only he would use. "But look."

Carolina glanced up from where she was laying on top of England to see that the airplane had landed. Its brilliant red paint of coat shined in the light of evening. Having climbed out of the pilot seat and removed his aviator helmet, a familiar looking boy was strutting across the temporary landing strip, running his hand through his dark hair to put the strands back in place and smiling a ridiculously smug smile.

"Oh, my god! Carter!" Carolina exclaimed, covering her mouth as she saw the boy. She climbed off of England and rushed across the park, jumping into her twin's arms. Carter spun her around in circles a few times before setting her back on her feet, laughing the whole time.

"Carter! You're here!" she squealed.

"Yes, yes, I'm here!" He brushed the wild hair out of her face. "Look over there!" Carter said, pointing at the red plane.

Painted across the side of the tail in dark blue letters were the words _Carolina Pride._

And Carolina burst into tears again, burying her face in her brother's shoulder.

America walked over to where England was still on the floor of the stage and held out his hand. England took it and stood to his feet. He started to brush off his clothes, but a sudden hug from the nation before him hindered the movement. He stood still, frozen at the companionship he was being offered. America had wrapped both arms around England's neck while the British nation just held his arms out awkwardly.

"Thanks, Iggy," he whispered. "I hope you know you've just made her day."

Though a bit dumbstruck at first, England soon returned the hug. "Yeah, I know." He replied. "I know."

They stood beside each other and watched as Carolina ran over to the plane and held her arms out, laughing loudly as she looked at the aircraft. Carter stood at her side, pointing out different things about the plane, and her eyes lit up at everything she noticed about it. Soon, Italy and Seychelles joined them, followed by Belle and Drake, listening intently as Carolina began describing the type of plane that stood before her. She explained when this specific style became popular during a certain year.

"She really loves it," America said, patting England's shoulder before hopping off of the stage and barging through the crowd that had formed around Carolina Pride. He lifted Carolina up into the air with a squeal and set her down on his shoulders.

"Well done, Angleterre," France said as he passed.

"Whoo!" Prussia shouted, jumping over the stage and slapping England on the back. "Nice, man! Spicy loves it! It's the right amount of awesome for her!"

Everyone gave England some form of 'Nice!' as they walked by, but it was the hug from Carolina and the sunshine-filled grin she sent him while atop America's shoulders that was the most rewarding of all. He took a deep breath and climbed down off of the stage to join the crowd in admiring the plane.

He was certain that everyone here could agree with him, but if they didn't, he wouldn't care. He was glad that Carolina had joined America in this World Meeting.

00000

**Author's Note**

**Well, *sniff* its over, except for the epilogue, but I hope you guys have enjoyed it! A shout out to pastaaddict, sparklybutterfly42, Stellar MEL, Shay2014, kassydaPJgeek14, CBerrie202, EverythingMath, major-fangirl-in-here17, and WaitingForLife2Begin. You guys are the awesomest of the awesome when it comes to reviewing! And to the rest of you reviewers, thank you! Thank you, and thank you! I could not have done it without y'all!**

**Check out mah profile to see a poll for which state I should do next! It's been real, y'all! Look forward to the epilogue!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Until next time,**

**-Silver**


	19. Epilogue

**For the last and final time, I, Silver Wolf the Twenty-Seventh, do not own Hetalia.**

00000

She should have known that the moment she stepped into the Washington DC Manor of America, she would be tackled. Her siblings sounded far too eager over the phone while she was on the plane ride home, so a hug attack should have been a predestined welcome. Sure enough, when Carolina's booted foot stepped down onto the indoor mat that lay in front of the double door entrance to the manor, an ear-piercing squeal echoed from down the hall and carried to Carolina. Faster than the speed of light, a small body, seeming to come out of nowhere, collided with the copper-haired girl's middle and knocked her back into her father.

"Whoa, girlie!" America exclaimed as he stumbled back from the amount of force that was applied to Carolina. Unfortunately, he stumbled back into Carter, who had hung behind to lock the truck.

"Hey!" he shouted.

To put it simply, they all landed in a heap, half-way in and half-way out the door.

"Louisiana!" Carolina pulled the girl off of her. Louisiana looked up at her sister with hopeful eyes.

"Can I have it? Can I? Can I? The autograph, the autograph!" she shouted, nearly wringing Carolina's neck.

"I have it if you would let go of me!"

Louisiana released the girl and watched as Carolina pulled the picture of France out of her pocket and handed it to her. Immediately afterwards, America, North Carolina, and South Carolina all covered their ears.

"Aieeeeeeeeeeee!" The blonde girl shouted, flipping backwards off of Carolina and nearly crushed the photo as she somersaulted down the hall.

As Carolina and her brother and father all sat up and uncovered their ears, the Tar Heel state felt someone pull on her dress. Looking down she saw a little boy with ash blonde hair and blue eyes staring up at her.

"Did you give Russia a hug?" he asked in a small voice.

Carolina smiled and enveloped little Alaska in a hug. "Yep! And he said to give you one back!" She replied. Alaska smiled and ran off when she let go of him.

When they all stood to there feet, Carolina headed to her room. She hadn't gotten halfway there when Leila hopped in front of her.

"Hey, Carrie! How did it go with Japan?" she asked, flipping her dark ponytail back over her shoulder.

"It went great!" Carolina told her, high-fiving the girl. "He totally got it!"

"Sweet!" Leila grinned. "Oh, and Ginny told me to give you this." She handed the girl a slip of paper. "He said something about a meeting."

Carolina laughed. "I'm gonna tell him you called him that. You know he hates that name!"

The sisters giggled together before going their separate ways.

00000

Once again, Carolina stood amongst the Original Thirteen as they held flashlights in front of their face. Carolina gave Virginia a weird look.

"Is the dark room and the flashlights really necessary, Ginny?"

Her older brother glared at her. "It was Massachusetts's idea. And quit calling me Ginny!"

"Sorry," she apologized, hiding a smile behind her hand.

"Now, let's get down to business," he said, turning to face Carolina completely. "Caroline A. Jones, aka North Carolina, the Tar Heel state, the twelfth state to join the US of A, we of the Original Thirteen will now look over your report of everything that happened to you while in England."

Here, he pulled out a few pieces of paper and stared at them, adjusting his glasses as he skimmed over the pages.

"Let's see, you did this, that, and some of this, blah blah blah, got into an accident, blah blah blah..."

Carolina watched her brother closely, noticing the nervous look he sent her way.

"You... umm... Oh, for goodness sake, I was so worried!" He threw himself onto Carolina, tossing aside his normal stoic and calm attitude, as well as his glasses, to reveal his older brother worry. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close, not wanting to think of the plane wreck.

"Oh, brother," New York sighed, shaking his head.

When Virginia pulled himself together again and placed his glasses back on his nose, he picked up his papers once more, cleared his throat and continued.

"Anyway, we have all recognized your achievements and come to a conclusion."

Carolina looked up at Virginia expectantly.

"We have decided that you properly upheld the American way during the World Meeting." He walked up to Carolina and patted her head. "Nice job," he winked.

"Okay, were done! Let's part-ay!" Rhode Island shouted, throwing his flash light and flipping on the lights. It revealed that the room was actually full of all fifty states, who began throwing confetti and shouting her name in congratulations.

Carolina jumped in surprise and smiled at her crazy family. Then she leaped up onto a table and pumped her fists in the air. "Party time, folks! There had better be some chicken in here somewhere!"

And they partied all night long, happier and prouder than ever that they were American.

The End.

**Author's Note**

**It's been awesome guys. This is the first time I have ever ended a story. WE MADE OT TO ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! YOU GUYS ARE BLOODY BRILLIANT! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I GOT A STORY UP TO ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! I'M IN TEARS! The one shot prize for my 100th reviewer should be out soon so please look forward to that! As well as whichever state I shall write a story on next! Thank you one and all for the support! I love you all!**

**Remember, you were unique before it was cool!**

**Signing off,**

**-Silver Wolf the Twenty-Seventh**


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